


Promise

by MindTrove



Series: Wolf and Falcon [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Don't worry, Drama, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Romance, Sad, dadsolas, haha - Freeform, momlavellan - Freeform, of course i jumped on that boat, what do you think this is?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-05-24 14:34:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 47,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6156726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MindTrove/pseuds/MindTrove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Be vigilant, the dread wolf has turned his gaze on you both and he will not stop until he takes back what he thinks is rightfully his.”</p><p>Moro has been trying to find a better solution to Solas' plans but events have set them into motion a lot sooner than expected when he learns she has kept the knowledge of their child from him.</p><p>(EDITED AND RE-HASHED)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. On The Run

**Author's Note:**

> I would LOVE to know what people think about this.
> 
> It would help to read Smokey Taboo before reading this to have better context.
> 
> Here's what my Lavellan and her daughter look like:
> 
> Moro: http://mindtrove.tumblr.com/morolavellan  
> Ramia: http://mindtrove.tumblr.com/ramialavellan

It had been five years.

Five years since the Inquisitor had thwarted the Qunari Invasion, and dismantled the Inquisition. It was the end of one of the most feared organisation erected in a time of utter chaos. Moro Lavellan had said; a long time ago, that when her task was complete she would be gone. Back to her normal life and out of world’s eye.

However, unbeknownst to many, including the Inquisitor herself, her work was not yet done. Taking on the task to find a way to stop The Dread Wolf’s plan, to convince him to seek another path. Much had happened in those five years. Elves all over Thedas, city and Dalish alike continued to disappear from the cities and countryside.

Most speculated they had joined Fen’harel’s cause, it was true for many. Either way, human settlements had become dangerous whether you were fighting at the Dread Wolf’s side or not. SO many went into hiding regardless.

The woods became much more dangerous and treacherous places to venture because of this.

Ramia cared not for such dangers, as she held her staff close to her, strengthening the fires of her camp. A little girl shivered in her lap, curling up closer to her and finishing the last scraps of her meal. Ramia handed her unfinished food to the child and wrapped what little furs they had tighter around them.

“This is yours.” The little girl responded.

“Eat Laisa, I am full.”

Laisa tilts her head up to look at Ramia, her eyes trained on the elder girl, and seemed almost vacant. Like she was looking through her, more than at her.

“You’re still hungry.” Laisa declared it, it was no speculation.

Ramia puffed in frustration, putting the food to the girl’s mouth as a finality to this back and forth debate, Laisa gladly gobbled up the food after that. Eventually grabbing the spoon and taking cue to continue feeding herself.

Ramia leaned her head back against the trunk of the tree behind her. Cicadas and the wind blowing through the trees the only music for the night, it was peaceful. An unsettling feeling wouldn’t leave her though.

Laisa and herself had been traveling though these woods for three days and had not countered anything, no animals besides critters and insects and even now the landscape seemed much too quiet for her liking.

Something wasn’t right.

Laisa jumped up to her feet and abandoned the now empty bowl and spoon, shuffling forward a few steps. Ramia shot up after her holding her by the wrist.

“Laisa? What is it?”

“Someone’s coming.”

Ramia’s heart lurched with fear and adrenaline as she grabbed Laisa into her arms, staff in hand and taking off with lightning speed. Laisa repositioned herself on Ramia’s back as they continued to whip through stray branches and over creaks. The sound of several feet on their tail, their only sign to keep going.

“Hurry!” Laisa whispers.

Ramia barely missed a flying dagger, cursing through her teeth as she sent a bolt of lightning on a limp branch and setting it ablaze to slow down their pursuers.

Laisa squeaked and ducked her head into Ramia’s hair, whimpering in fear as their attackers tried using magic of their own.

“Keep your head down Laisa. We’re almost there, don’t worry.”

She continued to run, even as her feet screamed at her in protest she kept running. Barriers erected to keep attacks off them so she could run faster. Eventually they got to a clearing, Ramia’s throat hoarse and burning as she tried to gain her breath. Small cottages and farms littered the landscape and she gave a sigh of relief to know they still remained on the right trail despite the attack.

Several elves came out of the shadows of the forest behind them, some had vallaslin while others were barefaced. A young-faced elf lifted his bow to take a shot, Ramia’s hand glowed a dark purple hue ready to strike and defend.

“Banalasal!” A voice bellowed, the archer halting immediately.

One of the others in their group, a tall and imposing man pushed down the boys bow before he could strike.

“Banal dalal.”

The elvhen came out harsh and clip, but Ramia could more or less make out it was an order to cease fire.

Judging by the look on the young man’s face as he kept his bow down, that man was the leader of their little group. Their leader removed his hood to show Mythal’s vallaslin and a shaven head, a scowl on his face as he addressed her.

“You are creating more trouble than is necessary da’len.”

The glowing orb in Ramia’s hand expanded, generating currents of electricity to be ready at a moment’s notice. The tattooed elf smirked at her spell, amused and unthreatened.

“Don’t be a fool.”

“Take your men and go back to your master. You can’t have her!”

The elven man took a step forward, hand reaching for his staff. He was readying to attack until his eyes darted to the distance, the sound of barking alerting them all, two human men and a pack of mabari running towards them.

Ramia blessed whatever powers out there for the opportune moment. For when she looked back, there was no signs of the elves anywhere.

“They’re gone…”

Suddenly two mabari were jumping up at her and Laisa, barking with excitement. The two humans jogged up, torches and swords in hand.

“Boys! Get off them! Andraste’s grace!”

The younger man of the two grabbed the dogs by their collars corralling them together. Ramia forced a friendly laugh as she dusted herself off, pulling Laisa’s hand back when she tried to reach for the mabari.

“I’m sorry if we alerted your dogs, the hour is so late you must have been asleep.” Ramia says in soft tones to appear meek to the farmers. To seem harmless.

“Well you’re both just a couple of pups yourselves aren’t you? What are you doing out at this time?” One of the farmers asks.

Ramia lowered her gaze, bringing Laisa to her front and holding her close.

“We were trying to make our way home but our cart was attacked, we’ve had to make due on foot.”

It was lie of course, safer for them not to know their true intentions. The younger man, the son most likely. gestured towards one of the farms on the hill.

“You two shouldn’t be out here this late, I’m sure you can stay with us-”

The father cleared his throat, causing the boy to blush and laugh nervously.

“You’re a mage…aren’t you girl?”

 “Yes sir…I wouldn’t impose regardless.”

The old man hummed in thought, weighing the options. The son leaning in close in hushed tones.

“We can’t just leave them out here…Mother won’t mind as long as it’s just one night.” The boy says, Ramia is surprised at his eager kindness to elves but doesn’t question it. Only hopes he can persuade his father.

With a wiggle of his moustache, the older farmer nods reluctantly, but unwilling to leave the two girls to the cold. Elves or not. With a nod of his head he leads everyone back up pass the fields and to the humble little home. The warm orange glow from the windows a welcome sight to Ramia and Laisa both.

The house was as warm as it looked, a woman walked out of what must have been the kitchen. She seemed in a right awful mood, coming to be even more so at the sight of the unexpected guests. Hands on hips and foot tapping, the farmer’s wife look at both men demanding an answer.

“I didn’t realise as I was running an inn.”

“Love…hear me out…”

“Out! I want her….oh!” The woman gasped at the sight of Laisa, bundled up behind Ramia’s back.

“Hello.” Laisa chirps.

“Why didn’t you tell me the girl had a baby?”

Ramia couldn’t help laughing at the quick change in the woman’s attitude, clearly having a weakness for children.

“You’re very kind all of you, I only wish there was some way to repay you.”

“Nonsense girl, plenty of trouble out there. I’m afraid the only place you can sleep is the loft though, a bit cramped and the bedding isn’t great.”

“It’s more than enough. Thank you.” Ramia says with a nod, and takes Laisa to get her cleaned up.

The attic was as bad as the woman had said but with their current situation she wouldn’t complain. Laisa trailed behind her, giving Ramia the towel so she could dry her hair.

“They wanted to take me away.” Laisa claims after a long period of silence.

“I know.”

This hadn’t been the first attack since the two had left on their journey, anywhere that wasn’t populated could not be rested at for long. It was always the same attackers though, elves. It was a sad time when you couldn’t trust your own kind, but it started to become hard to tell friend from foe. To know who was on your side and who worked for Fen’Harel.

That’s was what all this running was for wasn’t it?

“You won’t let them will you?”

Ramia paused her task, turning Laisa around, giving her the warmest smile she could muster and kissing her crown.

“Of course not, you’re my sister, I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Laisa smiles, twisting her head this way and that as she observed the nooks and cranny’s of the room. Always easily distracted, like her mind was moving from one place to the other. Ramia found it trying at times, it was hard enough with any other six-year-old but trying to keep Laisa focused and in the here and now seemed impossible at times.

“Babae wants to find me, He thinks I don’t belong here.”

Ramia bites her lip, anxious.

“Yes you do.”

“I don’t…but I don’t care.”

Laisa turned to look at her sister, giggling and jumping into her sister’s lap.

“I miss mamae.”

Ramia ran a hand though the loose waves of her hair before giving the girl another squeezing hug. Rising to change into looser clothing.

“I know, I miss her too, We’ll see her again soon though, I promise.”

Laisa wiggled into the covers, curling up against Ramia when she joined her in bed.

“I’m hungry.”

“Laisa…”

 


	2. Found in Dreams

_Two months ago_

 

* * *

 

“I need that new prosthetic now Dagna! I don’t care if it’s ready or not, if all else failed I’ll beat people to death with it!”

Moro shoved herbs and poultices into a burlap sack.

“And someone get rid of that fucking body!”

One of the former inquisition agents jumped to attention, dragging the dead sentinel’s body out of her quarters.

Skyhold was in a panic, many had thought all of Solas’ spies had been routed out of the castle but last night’s attempted assassination proved otherwise. Lailani, Moro’s trusted friend sat by her work desk, watching Moro pace about frantically as she packed two sets of provisions and clothes.

“You must calm yourself Moro,” Lailani insists with a hard frown. “You weren’t going to go along with the plan until months from now, you can’t act rashly…”

“He sent a spy after her Lailani! We move tonight, he knows about Laisa now and he clearly has no intention of leaving her in my hands.”

Lailani sighed, standing up and pulling Moro to face her, a hand on each of her shoulders.

“Focus lethallan, you are sure now is the right time?”

“We know where it is, I have no doubt he knows about it too, the vexing fool…” Another agent arrived, prosthetic in hand. Lailani nodded in thanks, telling the agent to bring Ramia and Laisa up to the Inquisitor’s quarters as she helped Moro don her new arm. “I can get there faster on my own, but I can’t have Laisa stay here.”

“Which is where Ramia comes in.”

“Laisa will be safer with her, most of his forces will be focused on me, I can draw their attention while the girls find another way to me.”

“Athras will help.”

“Thankfully…I will need him.”

Ramia sprinted up the steps, hair unkempt and clothing askew. She leapt at her mother, checking her for any injuries.

“Mother are you alright? Did they hurt you? Where is Laisa? What’s happening?!”

Lailani pulled Ramia aside as Moro continued to pack and prepare.

“I don’t understand, what is happening?”

“We are moving forward for the plan.”

“What? So soon?”

“Solas knows about Laisa…” Ramia’s eyes widened in dread at Lailani’s words. “You have a task of your own Ramia, and it’s important you follow exactly what I tell you.”

Lailani sat Ramia down, taking her hands in hers.

“There is a small village to the west of here, a man named Athras will be waiting for you at the inn there, and you must take Laisa with you.”

“With me? Shouldn’t she stay with mother?”

“Solas’ men will assume that, your mother will meet you further along the way.”

“In that forest to the north? None of you have told me what’s there…”

“You will learn more when you meet with Athras, do you remember him?” Lailani asks, Ramia nods in understanding.

He was a close confidant of her mothers, if her and Laisa could make it to the village and meet with him they will be much safer.

“You must be quick, and protect Laisa, they will be relentless in taking her from you.” The elder woman warns.

“Why does he want her so badly?”

Moro dumped one of the bags of provisions next to the two women, putting a staff into Ramia’s hands.

“It doesn’t matter. He will not have her.” Moro anger and frustration drips in every word, and leaves a finality that silences then all.

The sound of footsteps creaking on wood drew their attentions, an agent carrying Laisa in her arms addressed the Inquisitor. The sight of her mother caused the young girl to squirm in the woman’s hold, running towards Moro.

“Mamae!” Laisa yells as throws herself into her mother’s arms. “You’re leaving?” Moro stroked her daughter’s hair, regret and hurt by the events befalling her.

“Yes da’vhenan. It’s time I…Mamae is going to be gone for some time, but we’ll see each other again soon I promise.”

Moro chocked back her tears, she had never been apart for as long as they were going to be now and it brought her great pain. It was Ramia all over again, when she left for the conclave. But this felt worse than that, she would give anything to be facing a monster like corypheus, instead of Solas.

“What I’m going to tell you is very important, you must pay attention to me.”

Laisa’s eyes roamed the room, ignoring her mother and seemingly in her own world again. Moro firmly held the sides of her daughter’s face, making eye contact, desperate to bring back her attention.

“Listen to me Laisa!”

Laisa’s eyes snapped to attention. Her eyes were a striking blue like her fathers, always seeming to pierce right through you and her hair soft loose waves that frame her small round face. Once again Moro had borne a child that was a spitting image of their father and this time it did not seem a blessing as it did with Ramia. She inhales deeply, trying to forget her father and say what she needed to be said.

“You must listen Laisa…Look at me…” Laisa bit at her lip, giving a small nod.

“You won’t stay here.”

“I know, Ramia and me are leaving because babae found me aren’t we?”

“Yes Laisa…”

Moro had been dreaming in the fade when the incident occurred. So young Laisa was but still she was already able to control the dreaming world. She came to her as a wisp, a form she favoured above all the others.

Many times Solas would approach Moro in dreams, always so close but so far and always disappearing before Moro could call or reach out to him. Their last meeting however was interrupted by Laisa approaching her mother. Despite her appearance, Laisa could not hide her nature and Solas saw it for himself and he was gone before Moro could do anything.

That was how Solas had come to learn of his and Moro’s child, and from his actions this day it was clear what he felt.

Outrage. Betrayal maybe, Moro couldn’t say for sure. Only that whatever he felt it meant Laisa could no longer stay in her care. She would not stand for it; he would not take her child away. This would not put a dent in her plans to save Thedas.

Moro released her grip on Laisa’s face.

“You must run away if he finds you when you dream, stay away from him, promise you will.”

 Laisa pouts, looking down at her feet pondering her mother’s request.

“I promise.” Laisa finally says, smiling and holding her mother’s hand.

 Moro kisses Laisa on every surface of her face, eyes glossy with tears and pulling the girl into a crushing hug.

“Be good and listen to your sister, I love you so much.”

Laisa pulls in for another hug her mother tries to let her go. Lifting her legs as a que for Moro to lift her up and hold her. On the other side of the room Ramia is packed and ready, a sling wrap across her back for Laisa and staff in hand.

“We’re ready, let’s go.”


	3. Where are we Going?

Laisa whimpered and groaned the entire morning, not ready to leave the comfort of sleep. As Ramia pulled the young girl into warmer clothes, urging her to climb back into the sling across her shoulder she continued to weakly protest. Still tired and half asleep, the warmth and comfort of the bedroll still beckoning her.

The sky was still dark when Ramia awoke, and the farmer and his family would no doubt still be fast asleep. Precisely the best time for them to leave and continue onwards to meet up with Athras.

Despite wishing to avoid thievery, Ramia did not want to risk her sister’s hunger and took a few scraps from the pantry. Nothing that would go noticed, but filling enough for the travel ahead.

There were two paths they could have taken when the farm was gone. They took a left, and continued down a dirt road. If the sign was anything to be believed they would be able to make it into the next town before nightfall, so long as they had no delays.

When the morning sun finally began to peek through the clouds, Laisa gave a squeaking yawn, trying to rummage through Ramia’s knapsack. Food on her mind.

“Do you want to walk?”

Laisa hummed a yes, climbing out of the sling and eagerly accepting the apple Ramia offered her. Munching noisily and walking with a skip to her step.

“Don’t go too far ahead Laisa…” Ramia called. Laisa started walking backwards to slow her steps, humming a low tune to herself.

“Where are we going?”

“This way.” Ramia points ahead of them with a cheeky grin.

Laisa laughs and nudges at Ramia, demanding a proper answer. Ramia returns her amusement inhaling a large gulp of air through her nose and noisily exhaling. The air felt good, and they had managed to cover a lot of ground without incident.

“There’s a town at the end of this road. With markets and homes…”

“And taverns?”

“Just one, that’s why we’re going there, we’re meeting with an old friend of mother’s, Athras. He was one of the elves who’d stayed behind when everyone went their separate ways after the Qunari threat. He’s going to help us meet up with mother, knows the forests to the north better than anyone we know so we’ll need his help.”

“Can I have another apple?”

“Are you even listening?” Ramia chided as she stopped walking.

“Yes!”

Raising an eyebrow and arms crossed across her chest, she grinned from ear to ear at Laisa.

“Alright, what did I just say?”

Laisa folded her arms behind her back and giggled nervously. Before she could answer Ramia’s attention was drawn further up the road, they were silhouettes but she could make out at least five men. Armoured and armed.

“Laisa get behind me.”

Laisa obeyed immediately, her unsettlement with the incoming strangers further enforcing Ramia’s suspicions of who they could be.

They wasted no time, and Ramia just barely avoided a paralysing spell, shuffling backwards at the sheer force of the blast. The tie keeping her hair contained began to loosen, Ramia screams at Laisa to stand further back and places a ward around her before ripping out the hair tie in frustration. Summing force magic to lift large chunks of rock from the earth around her and sending them flying against her opponents.

Solas’ men were good though, and she only manages to knock one of them down. With a flick of her wrist she sends the boulder atop the fallen man to crush him further into the ground.

“One down.”  

It’s too late when she notices one of them approach below her in the corner of her eye and send a blade at her. She doges last minute but doesn’t manage to escape unscathed, blood trickles down her thigh in a freshly open wound.

Ramia curses through her teeth, sending a force blast at him before he can come in for a finish blow. With a swipe of her staff she sends the other sentinels falling to the ground, then slams her staff down to send tendrils of electricity through their bodies. Their bodies twitch and convulse, as the last vestiges of their lives passes through them.

Ramia wipes the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, breath heavy and hissing at the pain travelling down her leg. Limping towards Laisa, she releases the ward placed around her.

“Ramia!”

The blunt end of a dagger collides against Ramia’s skulls and sends her reeling. Her vision still blurry as she weakly tries to conjure something, anything to defend against the dagger making straight for her head.

Suddenly there’s ice, but not her own, because she was too weak to summon any magic. When she manages to rise and turn the sentinel is motionless and frozen. She sees Laisa’s hands glowing, her eyes staring straight at the block of ice.

“Laisa!”

“He was going to hurt you.” The little girl exclaims, as if she’s in trouble. Eyes watering as she stands on the spot, anger in her eyes.

Laisa walks up to Ramia, the dangerous and stony look to her gaze replaced with worry at the blood seeping into Ramia’s clothes.

“By the gods Laisa you’re too young…how could you possibly do that?”

It wasn’t so much the ability to perform magic in itself. This was Solas’ child and neither she nor Moro would deny magic would run strongly in her. The precision with which she performed it however was what shocked and unnerved her. Questions for another time, lowering on one knee Ramia hisses in pain. Asks Laisa to get a healing balm.

The girl ran over to Ramia’s bag which had dropped during the battle, rummaging and pulling out a clear green bottle, holding it up for Ramia to inspect.

“That’s the one, bring it over.” Ramia makes censored curses as she rubs the green jelly substance into her wound, then used some bandages to wrap around it.

“I’m sorry…” 

Ramia ruffled Laisa’s hair, putting weight on her staff to rise to her feet.

“You saved my life, don’t be sorry for that,” Taking hold of her sister’s hand, they continued their walk up the path. “Let’s try not doing any of that in town though.”

 


	4. Rest-stop

Rain poured heavily down from the sky by the time Ramia and Laisa arrived in the town. People were rushing to get inside their homes or anywhere with a roof. Moro had told Ramia that Athras would be waiting for them in a small corner of the Inn’s first floor, the furthest table from the door entryway.

She hoped all would go well; she didn’t like the look of the place.

The tavern smelt of ale and smoke, despite its rather unoccupied state. Heads turned to look at the new arrivals but quickly went back to nursing their drinks and guzzling down their meals. Ramia sized up the bar tender, a man probably no older than fifty. Sunken and miserable. Probably due to the lack of customers in his establishment.

“I hope you’re willing to accept an elf’s coin sir, we’ll be needing a room for the night, possibly two. If the weather continues like this.”

The barkeep looked her up and down, mouth thinning like he chewed something vile before stretching his hand out to take Ramia’s coin. Clearly being in no possession to turn down potential customers.

“Well, that’s real silver that is.”

He gave load ear-splitting whistle, a short, rosy-faced women came rushing soon after.

“She’ll show you to your room, give em the single Mia.”

As ‘Mia’ started leading the two girls up the stairs, Ramia took a quick glance to find the seat she was looking for was empty. Tutting with irritation she decided drying up and getting a hot meal would be their next priority. They were, after all just about a day early, the journey not taking as long as she thought it would.

Ramia thanks the woman, placing a few coins in her hand and asking if meals could be brought up for them as well as water and cloths. Nicer than the owner, she gave a polite smile and saw to her request. Ramia turned to find Laisa, sprinting from one end of the room to the other, looking through every area that piqued her curiosity.

“Right! Let’s get out of these wet clothes.”

 

* * *

 

“How difficult is it to get a hold of one child?!”

“How indeed…”

“Why are we even here? The agents you sent are dead, it would be so much easier if we could just kill the girl…”

“Neither are to be killed, I believe I’ve made my orders clear many times have I not?”

“Yes sir…”

One of Solas’ many agents followed him into the tavern, having settled and met with some of his agents that were stationed near this area, a stop and something to eat for his traveling companion would done before pressing on.

They sat at a more secluded corner of the tavern, keeping at a vantage point where he could see everything around him. Mia approached the two elves, with filled tankards in hand. The boy with him twisted in his seat when he heard her approach, then leaned in towards Solas to speak in hushed tones.

“You should probably order something as well…Bar man’ll make a fuss.” Solas exhaled through his nose, frustrated and lifting his eyebrows in understanding and agreement. Small and light foods were enough for him as it was, considering he didn’t actually need to eat, but the food served in places like this always left a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The boy nodded in thanks to the woman when she placed two large helpings of food in front of them, wasting no time in diving right in. Solas took one mouthful then hummed low in surprise, the food was a poor sight but the taste was adequate.

“What will you do about the Inquisitor? She’s covered a lot of ground in very little time.”

“I’d expect no less from her.”

It had been many years since he last exchanged words with Moro, the news of their…child, upset him greatly. That she would keep something like this from him had more of an effect on him than he knew it should. Did she intend to tell him the day he removed the anchor? Could she be reasoned to cease this meddling and convince her daughter to relinquish the child?

He remembers a woman who would do anything and everything for her children. That she would go to such lengths in some vain attempt to thwart his plans…to put her own children in danger…

Many questions for tonight, when he seeks her in the fade. He could avoid her no longer, not when she was set on the same destination as him.

“I have Abelas tracking her, I will not trust the matter to anyone else, considering how poorly things have gone with her daughter.”

Despite the men he’d lost, and the time wasted tracking Ramia, a small part of him could not help but be proud. Proud and relieved at her determination to protect her sister, his daughter from harm, even if it was him she believed the enemy. He at least knew his child was in good hands. For the time-being.

“Well if anyone can stop her it’s…” The agent ceased his words and looked down in curiosity.

“Hmm….? What is….oh?”

On the edge of their table a little girl peaked over, small hands gripping the table and eyeing them both and the contents on their table. Solas cocked his head to the side, which she mimicked. The gesture made him chuckle, and he turned over slightly to face her.

“Hello little one.”

“Hi.”

Despite replying the girls eyes looked straight at his forgotten meal, grabbing a crust of what was left of his bread, Solas hands it over to her. More than happy to take it off his hands she nibbled on the bread continuing to stare straight at him.

“What is your name da’len?”

“Laisa.”

 Lost soul Solas recalls the name to mean.

“A sad name to give a child.”

Laisa cocked her head towards the young man with Solas, sticking her tongue out at him.

“I like it, Delavir.”

 Solas laughed, amused and surprised to hear the elvhen tongue from her and even more so her choice of words. His companion only scoffed, folding his arms in front of him on the table.

“You are a strange one child, tell me, where are your parents? Do they know you have wondered about speaking to strangers?”

Laisa closed her eyes and hummed a tune, ignoring his question. Solas scratched his chin in confusion until realisation dawned on him. Taking his fork and stabbing a potato from his plate he lifted it, within range. Cracking an eye open, Laisa chomped down on the morsel of food. Her cheeks full as she savoured the food.

“Upstairs, she doesn’t know I’m gone but it’s fine, I wonder off a lot but no one notices.”

The other man with Solas stands, righting his armour and clearing his throat.

“We should get going ser.” Solas nods as Laisa opens her mouth again in demand of another piece of food which quickly becomes a pout when he opts instead to ruffle her hair and leave with his agent.

“Go back to your room child, before you are missed.”

Laisa watches the two men leave and smiles sadly once he is out of earshot.

“Yes babae…” Laisa mutters, watching the two men leave the tavern. Mouth curved downwards as she lets her father go.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elvhen used:
> 
> Delavir: Stupid


	5. It's been a Long Time

Her dreams felt oddly different tonight.

Most of Moro’s dreams were repetitive. Home, her clan or Skyhold. Happier times, chances to relieve moments with those long since dead or scattered to the winds. Today it was closer akin to an encampment, her surroundings that of one of the aravels. The interior was warm, comforting but with no furnishings. In fact, there were no objects to be seen whatsoever, which was odd.

The sudden realisation causes a chill to settle in the air, making the hairs on her neck stand at attention. Moro glanced towards the entrance and saw Solas standing before her, clad in that sentinel armour and wolf pelt draped over one shoulder that she had seen those many years ago. The years seemed to have rolled off of him, like the rocks beneath a swift river. Time clung to her body, and while her image had not changed much, she felt it her bones and her soul as it wore her down with each passing year.

“Solas.”

“Vhenan.”

He kept to his usual pose, hands clasped behind his back. She would have mistaken his posture for relaxed aloofness if not for the intensity of his gaze.  Solas always seemed one step away from bursting. Moro stretched out her hands in a grandiose style as she addressed him.

“I’d offer you a seat if I could, alas, even if I could I would not, as you are unwelcome here.”

She retracted her hand back into herself, studying his body language, eyes searching him for his intentions.

“What is it you want Solas?”

 It surprised her how calm she was being; she had always imagined their first meeting after so many years would be more intense.

Probably more yelling, perhaps something thrown, mostly likely at him

Solas, took small predatory steps towards Moro, each step seemingly calculated.

“Why?” He poses the question; she feels the heaviness of it. The hurt.

Moro made an exaggerative sigh, turning her back to him.

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

Solas stormed up to her and spun her around to face him. Arms gripped her shoulders in a sharp and angry hold. Her eyes shot up straight into his, he was hurt and she knew, she knew and she didn’t care.

“Why would you have kept this from me? Why would you keep **this** from me?!”

“You were long gone before I even knew I was with child Solas; you do remember that happening do you not?” She retells events that left her broken with a casualness that puzzles even herself. Had it truly been so long now? That she could recall painful events like plain facts.

“You had another chance to tell me Moro.”

“Ah yes, the time you removed my arm and told me you were going to destroy the world. Mmm, right after having to deal with a rogue Qunari invasion. Can’t imagine how on earth it slipped my mind.” Her words were heavily laced with sarcasm, regardless the excuses did not placate him.

Moro placed her hands on his arms, urging him to release his own from her.

“What good would it have done? Why tell you of a child that’s only going to die if you manage to succeed in your ridiculous plan?”

Solas averted his eyes, but Moro moved closer to him, searching his face for whatever he was hiding. Until she pieced it together, eyes widening and she realised what he would not speak. The reason for his pursuit of their daughter making more sense.

“She won’t die…will she?”

His silence was his confirmation. Moro had thought Laisa’s odd nature was only that, an oddity and side effect to some sensitivity to the fade and spirits or even simply just the short attention span of a child. Laisa was more like her father than Moro had believed, she did not know whether to rejoice or recoil at that.

Regardless, he would not have her. Solas learning of his fatherhood had become a blessing and a curse. It distracted him, made him reckless and waste resources while she continued on to the task at hand.

Solas approached her again, this time more gentle. Brushing a lock of hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ear. It would be so easy to rest against that hand, even after all this time and after everything he had done. Hadn’t it always been that way for them? Always a touch away from doing something they would both regret. The hand on her cheek travelled to the back of her neck, fingers locked into the tresses of her hair.

“You don’t have to keep doing this…”

“You forced my hand when you threatened to destroy everything I built, you forced my hand when you attacked me in my own home.”

“It was foolish of me,” He says as he cradles her face with two hands, pressing his forehead against hers. “A mistake made out of recklessness, you know I would never send anyone to kill you.” Their breaths mingled together when their faces where inches apart. “Please believe me.” His last omission came out in a painful whisper before he softly presses his lips against hers.

Moro gripped onto him, more out of surprise than anything else. All the air from her lungs was pulled from her, his mouth so demanding and leaving her whimpering against his mouth. His lips became more aggressive, more for her benefit she knew. It was how she always liked it. Moro pushed him away eventually, both of them panting and eyes slid shut and revelling in the afterglow of their kiss.

She leaned in against his ear, grinning from ear to ear.

“I certainly hope you don’t think this changes anything Solas.”

They pulled away from each other, professional and proper like the last few minutes never happened.

“I did not think it would.” Solas claims, turning to make his way out of the aravel.

“One last thing before you go.”

Solas paused, an ear attentive and listening.

“Tell Abelas to stick to magic and talking out of his arse. He and his men haven’t a clue what stealth and subterfuge is.”


	6. Athras

The tavern seemed to attract larger amounts of customers in the early afternoon. Smoke permeated the air as well as rowdy laughter and conversation.

Ramia was nervous, Athras was a day late and her mother and Lailani had guaranteed that the elf was a punctual man. Fingers rapped on the table and her knee bounced aggressively as her anxiety to the situation grew. What worried her the most was she didn’t even know what man looked like, a blurry visage her only memory of the man she had met earlier in her childhood.

 _You’ll know him when you see him_ her mother told her more or less. Laisa of course did not share her worries and was more preoccupied with her dislike for the noise and unpleasant smells of the tavern.

“How much longer Ramia? I don’t like it here…”

Ramia couldn’t blame her, every now and then the two of them would receive strange looks. She was glad she left her staff in their shared room. The last thing they needed to risk was being thrown out.

“Ah! Here you are.”

A tall elven man sat across from the two girls. He pulled away his hood to reveal a tattooed face, the lines on his cheeks stretching to accommodate his grin. His hair was short and shabby, the greying on the sides the only sign of ageing. He smiled at Ramia expectantly, arm pressing against the table as he leaned forward as if waiting for some sort of reaction.

Ramia’s eyes narrowed on the man as they trailed up and down at him, sizing him up.

“We’re not looking for company, go away.”

The man chuckled deeply.

“But I have been asked to meet with you personally!”

“Unless you have proof sir I-” Before she could finish her sentence he pulled out a folded piece of paper, it took only a moment for Ramia to notice the wax seal before she was snatching the letter from his hand. Ramia recognised the seal and handwriting, her mother hand written this letter herself. There was no mistaking who this was.

“Athras!”

Athras gave as much of a bow as anyone could while sitting down.

“The one and only- Ow!” He clutched at his shin, Ramia having kicked him under the table.

“You’re late!”

“Mythal’s mercy! What’s your foot made of?!” He groused, Laisa giggled quietly by Ramia’s side while Ramia folded her arms and waited for an explanation.

“I haven’t enough fingers on my hands to count how many people I’ve had to fight getting here, what if we were attacked in the tavern?!”

Athras released his leg, clearing his throat and mustering up another charming smile.

“But you weren’t.”

“You are being way too laid back for my liking.”

The smile on his face fell before he looked around the tavern to make sure they were not being heard, leaning closer.

“I had to take care of some things before meeting with you,” He whispers, raising his hand to stop Ramia from speaking before he continued. “Such as finding out the progress your mother has made, and to secure our root towards Tevinter.”

“Tevinter? Why would mother go there?”

“There is a place there, Arlathan forest. That is our destination, I shall say no more…not here.”

Ramia nodded in understanding before returning to their room to retrieve her belongings so they could be on their way.

It felt good to finally get out of the inn, Athras took a long stretch, inhaling deeply through his nose before turning around, his attention on Laisa.

“So you’re the one everyone’s been making a fuss over.”

Hands on his hips and head cocked to the side, Athras gave the small girl as friendly a smile as he could while also sizing up the child. Laisa clung to her sister, face buried into her leg and shying away from Athras gaze.

“Fen’harel’s little cub.”

“Don’t call her that.”

“My apologies, what’s her name?”

Ramia looked down at her sister, placing her hand against her cheek, to settle and comfort her.

“Laisa.”

Athras repeated the name, extended a hand out and ruffling the girl’s hair. This earned him an annoyed pout as the girl righted her hair of the mess he made of it.

“Very quiet isn’t she?”

“Maybe she just doesn’t like you.” Ramia smirked. “Children can be quite good judges of character most of the time.”

“Ha, ha, ha.”

They continued through the town, picking up supplies and arming themselves better for the journey ahead. Once properly suited and booted the three of them were now made their way past the town gates and back on the road. Suddenly it had occurred to Ramia just how far Tevinter was and that it would take an extortionate amount of time to get there.

“Athras, you said Arlathan Forest was to the north? In Tevinter?”

Athras’ eyes were focused on the trees around them, like he was looking for something specific. But he waved his hand at Ramia to show he was listening and for her to elaborate on her question.

“How will we get there?”

“Ah! This way!” Athras chirps as he disappeared into the forest at a fast pace.

“Athras! Dammit.” Ramia mutters, picking up Laisa and breaking into a jog to catch up with him. “Are you listening?”

“Yes, you want to know how will get there in a short space of time.” He repeats. “The Inquisitor chose me for a reason you know.”

Ramia struggled to keep up, the woods in these parts having large thick roots that rose from the earth, making it a hassle to track through when you had your hands full.

“And why is that?”

“Because I managed to get my hands on this.”

The narrowing of her eyes changed to grow large at the sight before her.

An Eluvian.

Athras stood before it, turning and grinning at the state of shock Ramia was in, she slowly approached the large mirror and reaching out to touch. Marvelling as it rippled and shone into a bright light. The mirror was twice as large as the one in Skyhold.

“I know Elvhenan more or less spanned all of Thedas but…”

Athras gave a genuine smile at how in awe she was at the giant mirror, directing her attention to the barely surviving stone walls littering the area.

“Look around you, this place clearly held some importance. Long ago it would seem. You can find remnants of the empire all over. If one knows where to look…”

“Wait!” Athras pauses midway into the mirror. “Doesn’t Solas have control of the eluvians now? Won’t we find his men inside the crossroads?”

Athras places a hand on Ramia’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Don’t worry, this eluvian will take us straight to Arlathan Forest, stay close, follow my lead and I’ll have us there in no time.” He pats her shoulder reassuringly pulling the girls with him into the mirror. “I promised your mother I’d protect you both with my life, you have my word.”

Ramia returns his smile, holding Laisa closer to her. Together they all step through.

 

* * *

 

Large pillars, buildings and parts of the earth itself surrounded everything around them. They floated all around them, decorated by trees, vines and cascading waterfalls. It was beautiful, Ramia hadn’t realise she was holding in her breath until the sound of Laisa’s excited squealing filled the air around them, pulling her out of her almost trance-like state.

Laisa jumped up and down, running from one end of the floating space they accompanied to the next. She giggled and laughed, so happily content at everything around her.

“It looks like when I dream Ramia! Look, look!”

Athras chuckled striding over to Laisa, bending on one knee and pulling the girl close to sit on his raised knee.

“It’s wonderful is it not?” Athras turned to look at Ramia. “Imagine what this place was like in its prime.”

Ramia joined them a wistful smile. “Yeah…”

Athras lifted a finger to his mouth for Laisa to silence her excitement, taking his staff from his back and using his magic to align floating rocks to create a path to a higher platform.

“Let us press on.”

 


	7. Drynne

Despite there being an eluvian at Skyhold, Ramia had always been under strict instructions to stay away from it. Now she understood why.

The crossroads could be a dangerous place for the reckless, and despite Athras’ insistence, she felt more than a little uneasy every time they took floating rocks and steps to travel from one large floating building to the next.

“Watch your step…There we go.”

Ramia accepted the hand offered to her as they made it to what appeared to be a vestibule, the largest she had ever seen. The fountain at its centre seemed to work and despite its state of disrepair, glittered and sparkled wherever the light shone.

“What was this place?”

“By my guess, a palace of some sort perhaps? Most of the buildings here seem just as lavish.” 

Athras scratched at his chin, clicking his fingers at a small secluded corner room and gesturing for the girls to follow.

“This way, we will rest here for now,” They entered the small room and found food, water and sleeping equipment. “I told you I had to secure our route, there’s another one like this closer to our destination, give it another day or two.”

Laisa gave a long yawn, rubbing at her tired eyes and heading straight for the bed roll.

“I hadn’t even realised how long we’d been travelling, is it night already? Outside I mean.”

Athras bundled Laisa in some blankets, placing some dried foods by her side in case she awoke hungry. Patting the seat next to him for Ramia to join him.

“Time does move differently here, that’s a given, feels like we’ve barely been travelling right?”

Things had gone so smoothly so far, Ramia couldn’t help but chuckle at his teasing tone instead of being annoyed.

“It does actually.”

Both were silent as they filled their bellies. Athras gazed down at the staff by Ramia’s feet. Grabbing the staff and ignoring her protest he began to examine the rune inscribed on it.

“Favouring force magic are we?”

Ramia snatched back her staff, tracing the runes herself. This man may have been a confidant of her mother’s but she did not know him. The calmness and carefree attitude he held towards the situation rubbed her the wrong way.

“You don’t like me too much do you?” His asked as his cheek rested against his knuckle. He watched Ramia stare at him with suspicion, eyes crinkling with a smile.

“I find your amusement and blasé attitude towards our situation highly suspect.”

“Well you do enough being serious for all three of us!”

“I’m not being too serious! Solas probably has his agents within these crossroads right now, coming after us as we speak.”

Ramia glared at the man before her, twice her age yet behaving half of hers. The outburst did not fall on deaf ears however and Athras sat closer to her, a consoling hand against hers as it strained against the wood of her staff.

“Do you think I would be given this task if I did not take it seriously da’len?”

Ramia stared at the hand above her own. She trusted her mother’s judgment, and so far Athras had been good on his word. Whether he would be useful in a fight however would be tested soon no doubt, a small part of her could not hold back on her reservations until then.

The man, from what she could see was no stranger to battle.  No mage at his age would be, she could feel how callous his hand was against her own. There was old scarring from burns along them as well. Most likely a mage who preferred fire. Athras noticed her eyes linger on said wounds.

“Yes, I was quite careless in my youth. I enjoy the flashy displays fire spells can do. I’ve had to learn the hard way to control it.”

Ramia stared at her own hands, sparking a flame of veilfire to dance between her fingertips. A bittersweet smile on her lips.

“The last time I ever conjured flame was when Solas said goodbye…” Ramia noticed the tell-tale sign of pity and quickly brushed him off before Athras could say anything. “Doesn’t matter really, I do prefer force magic, like you noticed.” She took another sip from her cup and bite of fruit. “I like that it can work both for attacking and defending.”

“You can do that with other styles of magic.”

“How so? They just seem so…chaotic, in a sense.”

Athras turns to fully face Ramia, taking hold of both her hands.

“What other style of magic are you best with? That you find unusable for defence?”

“Lightening I guess? It’s what I’m best with, other than force.” Ramia gasped as Athras caused her conjure a ball of electricity in her hands. The lightening she was sure came from her own mana but it felt more controlled, like Athras himself was directing its flow. Keeping the spell more controlled, more contained.

“How does it feel?”

Ramia closed her eyes, keeping her mind focused on the spell.

“Like…I don’t know. Feels like my normal lightening spells but I can feel your interference, directing it”

“Try and hold it”

Ramia panicked when Athras tried to pull his hands away, her own following his and crying _no no no_ in a whisper. Athras chuckled bringing his hands back to hers and releasing the spell.

“Come.”

Athras rose, lifting his staff and heading back into the vestibule. Ramia followed after him, her own staff in hand to be safe.

“What are we doing?”

“Just a bit of practice.”

“Practice?”

“Nothing too complicated or long-winded. We don’t have the time for that, but getting better control over elements you feel less confidant with will put you at an advantage, in the long run.”

 

* * *

 

Ramia spent the better part of the hour learning to better control her lightening spells. Every time she felt she was getting close to mastering her spells, she would freeze up and the spells would spurt and cast out haphazardly into random directions.

“Again!”

Ramia rolled her eyes but obeyed, summoning a spark and willing her mind to release to the line Athras had marked in front of her. Sweeping her staff with eyes closed in concentration, Ramia released the spell with as much power and control as she could. The sound a sizzling stone against the silence made her peek an eye open. Her mark hit just below the intended line but what caught her attention was the large indent within the stone floor that did hit the mark. The older mage in a state of shock.

“I didn’t do that…”

“No…I did.”

Athras and Ramia spun around to the source of the voice and attack. Upon the top of the grand staircase of the vestibule stood a red-headed elf, her armour like that of the sentinels Ramia had fought and killed so many times. Albeit hers was more intricately designed, heavier and sturdier than that of the dozens of men behind her.

“Ramia Lavellan, it is good to finally meet you.” The woman began. “I am Drynne, more than that you need not know.”

Athras manoeuvred in front of Ramia, teeth gritting and staff at the ready. The elvhen warrior who introduced herself as Drynne sneered at them both, the scar along her cheek stretching in a way that made her look much more menacing and cruel.

“I believe you have something the Dread Wolf would be pleased to have.” Ramia shoved Athras out of the way with fury in her eyes.

“She is not his to take!”

Drynne rolled her eyes, pulling the longsword against her back and slamming it into the ground.

“Honestly between you and me it makes no difference, what I want is to see the elves returned to glory. No longer living in squalor or scurrying in the forests, and Fen’harel will see it done,” She swaggered down the stone steps, her sword screeching against the stone. “If it were up to me, you and your mother would be killed and out of the way. However, I will not question why my master wants you both alive…” Ramia entire body snapped with magic held at bay as she waited for Drynne’s move. “But you could make this all so much easier if you co-operate.”

_“_ _To the void with you_ _! He will not have her! Or this world!”_

_“_ _May you learn girl_ _, for you cannot change the inevitable.”_


	8. Falling Down

Ramia, Athras and Drynne had not moved a muscle, each one of them waiting for the other to attack. Athras and Ramia flinched when Drynne slowly raised her right hand, palm flat and arm bent at the elbow. Ramia followed her line of sight and she knew her attention was on the small room where Laisa slept.

Ramia saw two of the sentinels take the signal, charging after them as they ran off ahead of Drynne. Which was exactly what the warrior wanted. Instead of coming head to head with one of the agents, a foot had lodged itself straight to her gut, Drynne pouring some mana into it sending her reeling back.

“Ramia!” Athras yelled, erecting a barrier to the room to protect Laisa while running to Ramia’s side. The wind was knocked out of her, but her eyes were trained on the woman in front of them. Athras leaned in close. “You can just charge in like that,” He spoke in hushed tones. “She is not to be trifled with, if we’re going to get out of this alive you’ll need to listen to me, alright?”

Ramia nodded hesitantly, still catching her breath.

Athras’ eyes trailed up and across the stairs to where the other sentinels stood, awaiting their commands. Drynne used her mana to generate a spectral blade. Half the size of the long-sword in her right hand. She appeared bored and uninterested in this battle, but Athras already picked up one weakness.

Drynne could not carry such a large sword and swing with one hand, not with her strength alone. Magic was at work, and if he could keep her distracted enough to waste mana, they could stand a chance.

“I’ll keep her on her toes, I want you to get rid of those other guys Ramia, can you do that?” The crystal of her staff glowing was his only answer as she rose to her feet.  Athras looked pleased, spinning his staff around dramatically as he slowly approached Drynne.

“Eyes on me sweetheart.”

Drynne scowled at the endearment, taking an aggressive stance. The grip she had on the spectral blade was loose, Athras would have to watch out for that. Ramia wasted no time attacking Drynne’s other agents and the sounds of their combat got the two of them going themselves, Drynne sending blow after blow at Athras as he expertly dodged or fended of her moves with his staff.

One block in particular sent Drynne off balance, Athras used the opportunity to send his staff hacking away at a barrier she erected, flames dancing off with each hit. The sound of Ramia’s scream of pain distracted Athras momentarily, enough time for Drynne to get the upper hand, grabbing him by the collar, sending a jolt of electricity through his body and throwing him into a nearby pillar.

“Athras!” Ramia called after him. Making a quick healing spell to the slash to her side and sent a force of magic at the sentinel who tried to finish the job. His head hitting against the wall hard enough to be fatal. Four more tried to come at her altogether. Ramia gathered her mana, slamming her staff into the ground. The ground erupted into long jagged crack and the force sent all of them flying, one them heading straight at Drynne and knocking her over.

Ramia gave a sigh of relief as Athras balanced himself of wobbly legs, his whole body give a shiver and head whipping about to shake off the remnants to Drynne’s lightening spell.

“Hate it when they do that.”

“Are you ok?!” She asks as she ran over to Athras, checking him for any major damage.

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

Ramia saw through the bravado, his hands still shaking. They should have been more prepared, and despite taking out many of the sentinels, three still remained. Drynne was still standing and ready for more.

“Get up! Floundering imbeciles!” Drynne continued to chastise her men. Ramia bit her lip as anxiety filled her.

“What are we going to do?” Athras chuckled darkly as he surveyed their surroundings.

“Drynne was it?” Athras called, the warrior jerked towards the sound of her name, releasing the sentinel in her grasp and placing a hand on her hip. Lifting her chin up, urging Athras to continue.

“Are you aware exactly where we are?”

“Does it matter?”

“This was one of the battlegrounds the inquisitor fought in…”

Athras walk at a leisurely pace, everyone at present silent and watchful. He came to a stop in front of a skull much too large to be human or elvhen. He gave it a tap with his staff before continuing.

“Many Qunari died by her hand here.” Ramia looked around and suddenly it seemed they were everywhere. The bones of the dead, scattered all over the vestibule. Harder to have noticed before, perhaps due to their fighting unearthing them.

An uncomfortable feeling settled inside of Ramia, and was felt by sentinels themselves as well. Athras’ hands began to shine with a purple aura, his magic seeping into the ground around them and spanning the entire vestibule.

“While I would prefer not to use such…crude magic on such sacred ground, at least as sacred as anything is in this day and age,” The dead around them including those of the recently disposed of agents began to animate and come to life, weapons in hand and ready to do Athras’ bidding. “Desperate times call for desperate measures as they say.”

Drynne sneered at Athras, spectral blade re-forming and at the ready.

“Necromancer…you would dare?” Drynne seethed as she instructed her men to ready themselves and take their places as she summoned up more mana. Ramia’s eyes widened, unsettled by Athras’ spell.

“Have you never seen necromancy girl?”

“No…I haven’t…”

“Don’t be afraid, we’re still on the same side right?”

Ramia took in a deep breath, concentrating on the enemies ahead of them. Not before giving a reassuring nod to Athras. In an instant the last three sentinels at Drynne’s disposal were frozen.

“Yeah, let’s throw everything we have on her.”

It continued like that for some time, despite the numerous amount of undead, they were relatively easy for Drynne to destroy, but also avoiding Ramia’s attacks proved challenging. The battle was calamitous to the vestibule that was their battleground. So engrossed in the fight, they were unable to notice the amount of columns and foundations that were getting destroyed in their wake until it was too late.

The ground shook, halting all three of them. Parts of the ceiling was falling all around. Drynne cursed at the turn of events, her gaze switching from the two mages, Laisa’s hiding place and the Eluvian back up the steps of the vestibule. The floating building would be rubble within a matter of minutes and a decision had to be made quickly.

Deciding to fight another day, Drynne headed for the Eluvian.

“Fate has chosen to show you mercy today Ramia Lavellan, do get yourselves out of here alive. We’ll be waiting in Arlathan Forest.”

With that she was gone through the mirror. Ramia jumped out of the way of a falling pillar.

“Laisa!” Ramia cried.

Athras sprinted for the girl, dispelling his barrier and retrieving the young girl who was slowly waking from her sleep. Laisa blinked and her eyes widen at the sight before her, turning her attention to the man holding her.

“Where’s Ramia?!”

Ramia’s scream shocked them both to attention, the side of the room she was on crumbling and breaking apart from the part they stood on. Jumping across and trying to get her landing proved difficult and sent her tumbling over the ledge of the vestibule floor.

A desperate and tight grip was all from keeping Ramia from falling to the unending depths of the crossroads below. Athras wasn’t far behind, putting Laisa down and ordering her to stay put. Ramia’s face was in full panic and fear, the corners of her eyes dusted with tears as she held on to the crumbling structure.

“Oh gods…I’m gonna fall…I’m going to die!”

Athras shushed her, placing his staff beside him and clicking his fingers at her.

“Listen to me, Ramia…Ramia!” She forced herself to look at him instead of below at her dangling feet, tears freely falling down her cheeks. “You are not going to die ok? Just stay calm and…”

“How can I stay calm?! I’m hanging off a fucking ledge Athras!” Athras pursed his lips, exhaling heavily through his nose as he clenched his fist.

“Look at me! Don’t look anywhere else ok?” The thundering sound of rocks breaking around them caused Laisa to whimper beside him with Ramia in toe. “I promised to get you two to your mother, remember?”

Ramia acknowledged his words, trying to re-adjust her grip. Athras peered at carefully as he could over the ledge, while still keeping most of his weight on his own side.

“Alright, arm around my neck…easy now.” As soon as her grip around him was strong enough, he used all his strength to haul the girl over, rubbing her back and wiping a few tears from her cheek.

“There we go! Can you walk?” Ramia tried but the tumble had caused a sprain to her ankle and she yelped in pain when she put pressure on it. Athras tutted, both of them looking up towards the eluvian that seemed so far away.

“We’ll never make it…” Ramia yelped again, this time more form surprise than pain as Athras hoisted her up. Laisa jumped up his back, kicking him like a mule to start running.

“I should’ve asked for payment…” Athras groaned, running as fast as he could to the eluvian, using the last of his mana to build more strength and carry the double load. Laisa giggled in excitement, erecting a barrier around them and blocking falling debris. “Your sister can use magic?!”

“Long story! Keep running!” 

Athras roared dramatically when they finally reached the eluvian, jumping through and all three of them landing on soft grass.

The sound of an owl’s hooting, cicadas and Laisa’s giggling was a pleasant change to the hellish landscape they just escaped, and Athras belted out a huge yes before pulling both girls to his sides in a group hug.

“We made it! Gods I thought that was it, oh I thought we were going to die. Thank you Mythal, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Ramia’s eyes narrowed at Athras’ confession but a smirk graced her lips.

“What happened to _we’re not going to die_?” Athras peered one eye open at Ramia before turning his nose up at the sky.

“What was I supposed to say? Screaming like a banshee as you were….ow! You and the hitting!”

Ramia wrapped her arms around Athras, leaving him frozen on the spot.

“Thank you.”

Amused at her change of mood, he returned the embrace and sealed the eluvian behind them.

“Bless your heart I’m growing on you.”

“You’re still a twat, don’t ruin the moment.”

 


	9. Change of Plans

A camp was made once they found adequate shelter, an open mouth of a cave not far from where Athras said their mother was. Insisting they rest and heal their wounds before joining her. Ramia was brushing Laisa’s hair when Athras returned with three rabbits. He lifted a hand when Ramia made to help him and went back to her task, braiding Laisa’s hair and finding herself more suitable clothes than ruined ones she wore.

After igniting the flames to cook the rabbits better, Athras made himself comfortable. Pulling out a pipe and lighitng it with a click of his fingers. Bringing it to his lips, he took long drags from the pipe, eyes closed and relishing as his lungs fill with the medicinal herb. His eyes lazily trail over to Ramia, a lazy smile on his lips.

“You don’t have a care in the world do you?” She tells him.  
“Hmm? That’s directed at me?”  
“How do you stay so calm? After all that?” Athras hums in thought, scratching at his head and taking another drag of his pipe. “Never mind, forget it.”

“Everything always seems like the end of the world at your age. When you live as long as I have, as adventurous as I have, you learn not to get too uptight about everything that comes your way.”

Athras turns over the rabbits. Ramia’s eyes suddenly pique with curiosity.

“Adventurous?”

Athras gave another boisterous yawn, sitting up slightly.

“Sure, take this forest for example. I’ve been here before.”  
“Really? When? Why?” Ramia blushed faintly when he chuckled at her numerous questions.

“Tevinter’s my homeland, well, same way that you’re a Marcher.”   
“You were a slave?”

“Mmmm, I suppose, for a while, I came into my magic before I could be sold. Ran away as soon as I could throw a decent fireball in someone’s face,” Athras took a swig of water before continuing his story. “Stayed with a Dalish clan for a few years, then I was in Nevarra for a while.”

“You must have so many stories?”

Athras hummed in acknowledgment.

“Everyone has stories; I’ve enjoyed myself that’s true. But…when get to my age, you start realising how you pissed your life away and start feeling like you haven’t done enough. Helping your mother during the Inquisition and now in whatever way I could seemed like a good use of what’s left of my life.”

Ramia scoffed, eyes trailing off to the side to stare at the fire.

“All that effort my mother’s put in won’t mean anything if Solas gets his way…”

Athras became silent, studying Ramia’s gloomy expression. Rising from his place, Athras flopped down next to Ramia, making a quick glance to check on Laisa who had kept herself preoccupied with a frog that had wandered into their shelter.

“You were close right?” He asked. Ramia shrugged her shoulders, pulling her knees up to her chest. Her brows furrowed at the memory of a humble unassuming apostate. The lessons and laughter had, a gentle pat on the head after a well-executed spell. A farewell with no explanation as to why he had to go. Ramia knew now, and sadness was slowly replaced by anger and a sense of betrayal over the years.

“My mother’s been much more forgiving, I guess she’s just tired,” More memories came back. Times of her mother crying alone at night when she thought no one was around. Ramia knew deep down her mother would never be able to stop loving Solas, she could probably even forgive him if given enough time. That mercy would not be granted by her she kept telling herself. To be gone for years only to return to take away Laisa was an insult. Pouring salt into an old, festering wound. “He doesn’t care, he probably never did.”

“You really think that?”

“…No…? I don’t know…” Athras wraps an arm around Ramia’s shoulder, hand patting against her affectionately.

“I think he’s just doing what he thinks he needs to do. That’s why we’re being a thorn in his side remember? Help find a Plan B?” Ramia sent him grin, her faith in his words unconvincing, but Athras wouldn’t press the issue. Laisa interrupts the sombreness, carrying the frog she had found in her hands and throwing it in their faces.

Ramia giggled, an eyebrow raised.

“Laisa, let that poor frog go! You don’t know where it’s been.” Laisa looked plainly at her sister, bring the frog closer to her own face.

“Laisa…”

Laisa did not shrink from Ramia’s warning tone, frog inching closer and slowly releasing her tongue from her mouth. Athras watched the entire spectacle in silence with a hand to his chin.

“Laisa…don’t you dare put your mouth anywhere near that frog.”

Before the frog could be placed anywhere near the girl it was dropped unceremoniously onto the ground. A roasted rabbit being put in its place that she was more than happy to sink her teeth into. Ramia gave up trying to get the girl to sit down while she ate and let her hop around the cave and divulge her evening meal.

Athras handed Ramia her own rabbit, both watched the young girl. Her eyes sparkling and widening at anything they laid upon.

“I worry about her sometimes.” Ramia murmured the concern as she took the occasional nibble from her food.

Moro’s pregnancy wasn’t easy to bear. Many nights were spent ill and in pain and no healer could find anything to work long-term. The entire thing was a conundrum to them, no signs of ailment were found in Laisa but some nights they wondered if carrying the child and bringing it to term would be the death of her. Ramia could still clearly remember the sound of her mother’s screams from down the stairs that circulated the tall tower towards the Inquisitor’s quarters.

Knowing now what Solas was, wondering if Laisa was closer akin to him than more than just the shared blood of father and daughter. Ramia had no time to play the jealous older sister. She had been so afraid of losing both her mother and new sister, she did everything she could to help. After the loss of her arm, her role in Laisa care doubled even more. Ramia couldn’t imagine her life without Laisa anymore, the thought of Solas taking her away from her and her mother terrified her. More so the state her mother would be in if he succeeded.

“Back in the crossroads, she made that barrier didn’t she?”

Ramia was startled from her musings by Athras question. Her food getting cold and forgotten in her hands. One last bite was taken before she was ushering Laisa over and replacing her finished rabbit with hers.

“We shouldn’t be surprised honestly, given who her father is.”

Laisa’s ears perked up at their conversation, her chewing much more slowed, eyes scrutinising their every move and word.

“Want to join the conversation little one?”

Ramia was not keen on the direction Athras was taking the conversation, but she remained silent. Athras tapped at his thigh for Laisa to take a seat, which she did. Ramia had never seen Laisa look so serious. The topic of her father never coming up in conversation, save for the little ones little mumblings and abstract thought when her mind seemed elsewhere.

“We’re talking about your father.”  
“I know.”  
“A dangerous man, a dangerous man going through a lot of trouble to get you.”  
“I know.”

Athras turned his head slightly, searching Laisa’s eyes for anything other than the stiff attitude she was giving off.

“What do you think about it, little one?”

“You don’t have to answer him Laisa,” Ramia cut Athras off, pulling Laisa from him and into her arms. Laisa wrapped her arms around her sister, resting her head against her shoulder and her eyes gazing out towards the open mouth of the cave. “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull Athras but drop it.”

Athras lifted his hands up in defeat.

“Sorry! I had no intention in upsetting her. You have to admit, the magic, the mumbling nonsense that’s not actually nonsense. She’s not a normal child Ramia, and all this trouble your mother’s going through to keep her away from her father...”

“So what are you proposing?”  
“I’m saying that The Dread Wolf isn’t the only one thinning their resources in this ridiculous cat and mouse chase. That Solas is a calculating individual and would not be entertaining this unless he had good reason to. Think about it.”

Ramia had no time to bark back with laisa jumping out of her arms and running out of the cave and into the forest.

“Laisa!”

Ramia growled, grabbing her cloak and staff. Athras has a hand on her shoulder before she can chase after her sister. She rips herself off from his hold, teeth bared as she scowls at him.

“This is your fault! Why would you do that?” Athras grabs her again, donning his own cloak and weapon in hand.  
“Then let me go after her, it’s too dangerous.”  
“Then we should both go.”   
“No, stay here. She may return, will be better if you’re here if she does.”

There was little room for argument as Athras pulled over his hood and exited out into the forest, leaving Ramia in the cave alone with her distress. She began keeping herself busy, pulling out Laisa’s bedroll and having small food rations ready for her should she return hungry.

Spare sticks and other firewood stood a few feet away. The fire blazed more strongly when she fed it, the flames crackling. The rain outside had stopped, and it suddenly felt quiet, very quiet. Ramia stared out at the towering trees outside as they gently billowed in the cold night air, their groaning being the only sounds coming from outside the cave. Pulling her cloak closely around her, Ramia could let go of this feeling of dread.

Like she was being watched.

Her head darted behind her, but there was nothing there. She sighed softly, chastising her own paranoia. The fire began to wane again. With a grumble she attempted to reignite it with her magic when she suddenly couldn’t feel her arm.

The numbness was felt all over and in her very bones, vision a blur. It took her entire body feeling numb to notice she had been throw halfway across the cave. The numbness in her body the only reason she could feel no pain at the impact.

When she attempted to rise she couldn’t. Her body felt like stone, deep-rooted to the ground. Her eyes the only thing that could move and they darted in a panic wildly. She had been struck with a paralysis spell, it was the only explanation.

“Forgive me Ramia. I would never condone harm on you…but you left me little choice.”

Ramia’s heartbeat began to race at the voice so familiar, her eyes wide as they came into view of her saboteur. His face, which should be looking down at her in disdain or arrogance at outsmarting her, was instead pained. A hand placed against her temple with affection, moving stray hair from her face to better look at her. To see how much she had grown.

“…Hahren...” The term came out in a choked whine. She would be angry at herself for being so weak later, but to actually see him again face to face after so long hit her. Solas himself seemed to be as well, although he was much more composed. Cupping her cheek and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Fen’harel, what should we do with her?”

His face went back to that steel neutrality that befitted the title the sentinel im addressed him with.

“I have subdued her, there is no more that needs to be done Fen’an.”

From the pitch of his voice Fen’an was young and his face was obscured by the hood he wore. His hand clenched at Solas’ word and he seemed uninterested in letting it go.

“She has been a nuisance and killed many of our own. Why not be rid of her?”

The air suddenly felt thinner and colder, and unsettled all but Solas as he spared Fen’an a glance, expression unamused and threatening.

“You are eager for blood when it is unnecessary, are you a barbarian Fen’an? I do not remember allowing animals into my ranks.” The boy looked down to the floor at Ramia, his look of disapproval had not wavered but he was now embarrassed at his master’s words.

“No, you do not sir.”

“Good. If I find the Inquisitor’s daughter harmed in any way, shape or form, there will be consequences,” Solas explained plainly and simply as moved his attention from Fen’an to his other agents. “Is that understood?” All nodded in understanding as more of his men came into the cave, followed by Drynne, the warrior they had previously fought back in the crossroads.

“Drynne.”  
“Solas, I have done as you’ve asked.”

Solas stepped away from Ramia and approached his lieutenant.

“You are quick to redeem yourself.”

Drynne gave a small satisfied smile at Solas, turning towards the entrance of the cave.

“Of course.”

Ramia darted her eyes towards the entrance to where all of them looked. There Athras stood, with Laisa in his arms, relief that they were alive flooding through her.

“Athras! Take her and go! Get out!” It took much willpower to speak, and her voice came out hoarse and low as she begged Athras to escape and leave her behind.

“Sorry kid.” Athras approached Solas, handing Laisa over into his arms without hesitation. Ramia’s heart sank into her stomach, mouth open agape as she watched the exchange. She looked up at Athras with range in her eyes, demanding an explanation.

“Change of plans…”

 


	10. Reunion

“It seems this is not the first time we have met, to think that was you this whole time.”

Solas held his daughter for the first time in his arms. Terrifying and exciting all in one. His agents had given him privacy for such a momentous occasion.

“I hope this time around I will not need to bribe you with food to hear you speak will I?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement at the memory. A little girl with big curious eyes and a sharp wit that would reveal nothing without something in return. He felt slightly foolish now, to not have recognised her. To sense what bound them through blood, or even more simply just how much she looked like him.

Her hair was a compromise between his own and Moro’s in colour and texture. Much more curly than his own would be, if he chose to grow it out. Her eyes were undoubtedly his, just as piercing and probing as his own. They were yet to carry the weight and burden than so many centuries of mistakes and lives lost could bring. He prayed he could spare her such pain. Solas stroked the bridge of Laisa’s nose with the tip of his finger, a sudden wave of melancholy overbearing him at the sight of a small bump too small for most to notice.

“You will have your mother’s nose…”

The more he thought about Moro the more he could see of her in their child. Her skin was not as pale as his own, her brash and blunt attitude at the tavern. Solas’ heart was filled with adoration and pain. This was his child, his little heart held in his arms. Love seemed inadequate and too simple a word to describe the feeling blooming inside him.

Laisa place her fingers on her nose not too soon after her father had, eyes turning inwards to glimpse at her own bridge in vain. This earned her an entertained chuckle from her father.

“Babae.”

“Yes da’len, what is it?” Solas sounded eager to know, eager to give her whatever she would ask for. There were too many years to make up for.

Laisa’s eyes furrowed in thought, fingers digging into the intricate details of his armour and she pondered her question.

“I looked for mamae when dreaming and you found me.” Laisa look up towards a beaten path through the woods. Solas wondered if it was coincidence of not, considering that direction led to his destination.

“That I did. I was looking for your mother and in doing so found you. I had not known she kept you from me.”

“You want to take me away. Even if it hurts mamae.”

Solas was surprised at her insight for a moment, until he remembered it was the entire reason for all of this. Laisa was ancient. Ageing at such a fast rate perhaps because it seemed natural for her to do so, subconsciously. One day she would realise her full potential; she would survive the chaos to come from his plans. The idea of ripping her away from her mother, it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Laisa does not belong in this world however, and he will not risk her heartache for a mother and sister that will not live through his plans. Not unless he found a means to save them.

“I have to protect you from the pain of losing them da’vhenan.”

“But I already love them babae…”

A grave, saddened look overcame him. Laisa returned his expression. Solas brought his lips to her temple, he had to be vigilant in his cause. Laisa would not yet understand, but she would. Given time, and distance.

“I know da’len.”

“You still love them too.”

“…Yes…I do, very much…”

Laisa’s mouth puckered into a pout, wriggling out of her father’s grasp. Taking cue, Solas lowered her to the ground with a questioning rise to his brow. Laisa tugged at his hand pulling him away from the cave to the camps set up by his agents further along the path.

“Where’s Ramia? I wanna see Ramia.”

“We will da’len.”

“Now.”

Solas was taken aback at her sudden change in demeanour. Her eyes glaring daggers, daring him to argue back. He blew out a defeated sight, there was already one young lady fuming with rage against him. He needn’t have two.

 

* * *

 

Further along in camp Ramia sat by a fire, knees held up to her chest. Solas didn’t seem to find it necessary to have her bound despite protest from Drynne and some of his agents. Ramia wasn’t a fool, many eyes were trained on her. Any attempts at escape or attack would only be met with her death, or the more likely scenario, another paralysis spell. She had barely recovered from the last one, body still feeling sparks of unpleasant numbness, particularly in her head.

Drynne sat across from Ramia. Sharpening her long sword, the glow from the fire illuminating her features to show her deep in concentration. Ramia panned the entire camp, many of the elves seemed calm and relaxed. They chatted and gossiped, as if they weren’t helping bring the end of this world. Millions would be killed and it meant nothing to them. They couldn’t all be ancient; did they truly see the fate of elves everywhere so beyond improvement to take such drastic measures?

“You’re not ancient are you…? Drynne.”

A lifted brow was her only clue that Drynne was acknowledging her presence. Ramia could tell she would rather hold her tongue and not address her at all. Drynne continued to attend to her weapon, her eyes never rising from her task.

“No.”

“Why are you helping him?”

Drynne exhaled excessively through her nose, placing her sword and wet-stone aside. Resting her forearms against her knees, fingers interlocking together she peered past the fire to look Ramia in the eye.

“Listen very closely girl, I don’t like repeating myself.” Drynne began. “I know very little about you, less than I know of your mother.” Drynne’s frown deepened, the fire distorting the colour of her eyes as they glowed with night brewing in, making her all the more intimidating. “But while your mother’s position as Inquisitor got you a nice castle to live in with an education and all those lovely little privileges, our people were being beaten and killed and raped more often than I like thinking about.” Ramia held her tongue from arguing, her eyes glued to the woman before her.

“An elven marquis and leader of an Inquisition and still fuck all has changed; the Dread Wolf will accomplish what we couldn’t.”

“Geez Drynne can’t you get preachy and pissed off a bit more nicely?” Athras strode into the tension filled circle that seemed to emit around the two women, water skin in hand.

“Fuck off Athras, you’ve done your job. Go crawl off into some brothel or whatever it is you were doing before this.”

Athras laughed, cosying up to Drynne and wrapping an arm around her waist.

“Aw come on Drynne, I’m only kidding.”

Drynne grabs Athras’ wrist that holds the water skin, bringing her face to inhale and scowling as her nose was filled with the smell of alcohol. The entirety of her palm was placed against his face, shoving the man as far from her with a hard shove. Drynne wasn’t shy in showing her displeasure for Athras, cursing under her breath and leaving to occupy herself with other matters.

Athras brought up his gaze to see Ramia was watching him. Anger and betrayal a clear picture on her face as she glowered at him. He sighed, taking another long swig from his drink.

“How long?”

She could see the guilt in his eyes, subtle as it was. This wasn’t just about her, he was betraying her mother. Moro had entrusted the lives of her children to this man and he had taken that trust to meet his own ends. Whether it was guilt or fear he was feeling she couldn’t tell. Perhaps a bit of both.

“How long what?”

“How long have you been planning to stab us in the back?” Athras pondered her question. Running a hand through his hair. “Money? Glory in the next life or some bullshit like that?”

Athras barked a laugh.

“None of us are gonna live through what Fen’harel has planned.”

“Glory then?”

“Nope.”

“Then what?!”

Ramia’s teeth were bared, anger seething through her every syllable. Athras rose from his seat to join her side of the fire. She scooted away from him, like his very presence was poison.

“Remember when I told you how far and wide I had travelled?”

She scoffed, turning her gaze to the fire.

“That was true then?”

Athras Grinned. “There’s a difference between lying and withholding information,” He pulled his pipe from his cloak and begun lighting it. “I saw a lot of fuck up things while traveling. Our people suffering while I got fat on a good life, a good life you had as well.” Ramia had known how bad things could get, her mother didn’t speak often of her time in Wycome’s alienage but there was the dark look in her eyes when she did. Now that she was older she could appreciate and not take for granted the upbringing she had despite the tragedy that led to it.

“How quickly people like you and Drynne seem to think life as a Dalish is simplistic. That one clan after another has been hunted down and killed, _including my own_.”

The sounds of screams and burning aravels filled Ramia’s mind. Her heart beating like a drum when human’s cloaked in hoods and armour took her away. When the world Skyhold sounded like prison and Inquisitor like executioner. It had taken many years for the nightmares to go away, but as her magic grew stronger it was easier to block it away. Ramia didn’t like thinking about how much harder it would be if she wasn’t a mage, she would probably still have to endure the nightmares to this day.

“Go ahead, think me some spoiled brat who doesn’t understand,” Ramia stood on wobbly feet, refusing to listen to any more of what he had to say. Retreating to the edge of camp. “Whatever makes destroying the world and killing innocent people easier to excuse.”

Ramia braced her arm across a tree trunk, once she was sure she was alone she allowed herself to cry.

Close, they had come so close and all their hard work felt a waste. Her sobs were muffled by her need not to draw attention to herself, hand bracing against her face. There was no doubt in her mind that they had gotten to her mother as well. Whatever was here in this forest, it was of great importance to Solas. None of her mother’s armies, or what is left of them had come this far to the north yet. Her brain screamed at her to think of alternatives, to run. Her heart told her to stay behind, her mother’s words to protect Laisa echoing in her mind.

“Ramia!”

Feet padding across leafs and grass jolted her from her sombre thoughts. Laisa was running towards her, excited and eager, with Solas not far behind.

Ramia held Laisa so close and tight.

“Don’t cry Ramia.”

“Too late.”

They both laughed at that, almost forgetting that they weren’t alone. She had no affectionate gazes or smiles for Solas. Rising from her knees and holding Laisa protectively against her.

“So what happens now?”

Laisa wriggled out of her sister’s hold as Solas approached her. Ramia flinched as Solas brought a hand to her cheek. The hurt on his face couldn’t be mistaken, but this was the dread wolf, even if he wore her hahren’s skin.

“Do you think I would order my men not to harm you only to hurt you myself?”

“It won’t be the first time you’ve hurt me…”

“I would not have paralysed you without it being necessary.”

“I’m not talking about the spell.”

Solas’ eyes widened a fraction, realising her meaning. He brought his other hand up to clutch at her face, bringing her close to press lips against the top of her head.

“I am sorry da’len. My time with the inquisition made me careless, forgetful of my cause. I would not have abandoned you if I could have helped it.”

When Solas pulled away to look in her eyes he was met only with steel anger. The damage had been done. A brittle smile came over him as he tucked away stray hair behind her ear.

“I had forgotten how simplistic and blunt you viewed things.”

“Maybe I just prefer not to see things with a layer of bullshit. See things for what they are.”

“It is certainly an easier way to live.”

Ramia pushed his arms away from her, looking out towards the agents as they began to pack and ready themselves to journey forward.

“Like I asked, what happens now? Where are we going?” Solas gestured for Ramia to follow him, taking Laisa’s hand in his as they lead the way forward.

“I and your mother had the same destination in mind within this forest, there is a temple here.”

“Temple? Elvhen?”

“Yes, and old. Your mother will be there, waiting for you I suspect. Although I am sure she has realised her plans have gone awry since Abelas should be there as well.”

Solas’ face became more stern and coming to a halt to face Ramia.

“Once we arrive at the temple, you and your mother will be escorted safely back to Skyhold.”

“Me, my mother _and_ Laisa.”

“Do not make this difficult Ramia…”

Ramia cracked up at his warning, walking off ahead.

“I’m difficult? Well, let’s see what mother will have to say about all this.”


	11. Arlathan Forest

Arlathan forest was a vast and dense place, with large roots that covered the ground wherever you walked. Large enough that climbing was required to get through. Much time was spent on travelling through to their destination, earnest to get there fast enough that Solas alternated resting for travel despite it being late into the night.

Some of his men were left behind, including Athras, most likely not wanting to risk bloodshed once they rendezvoused with Abelas and his party. Moro would undoubtedly be none to be happy with the arrangement and Athras’ betrayal.

Solas’ pace was brisk and effortless through the jungle-like landscape of the forest. He was very much the image of a general or leader. Ramia tried to ignore the ache in her feet at trying to keep up, his men didn’t care a wit for her and every one of her actions felt scrutinised. Almost certain they were waiting for an excuse to be rid of her.

“Wait.”

Everyone came to halt as Solas lifted his arm, commanding them to cease their movements. Drynne dashed to his side, attempting to summon her spectral blade. Solas laid a gentle hand to her, discouraging the use of her magic.

“What is it?” She whispered, eyes darting while his own peered from side to side at a slower more calculating pace.

“We are not alone.”

“Inquisition?”

“No.”

It had only just occurred to Ramia that the sounds of the forest’s wildlife had all but vanished. Fen’an stood beside her, his staff at the ready and his posture signalling that he was ready for battle. Her body had recovered quickly but not enough to defend herself should they be attacked. Fen’an was aware, gesturing for her to come closer and stay by his side should the undesirable occur.

“They’re waiting…” Laisa whispered. Ramia crouched as slowly as she could, huddling Laisa as close to her as she could.

“Who is Laisa?” A whimper was her only answer as her sister clung to her, hiding beneath her cloak. A snapping branch was the last thing heard before a dozen humans came charging out from hiding, swords and battle cries ringing in the air around them.

“Slavers.” Drynne remarked as she summoned her blade, whistling to Fen’an to bring the two girls over to her direction. “Do not waste your time on these shemlen Solas, take Fen’an, the girls and a small accompaniment to the temple. Me and my men will hold them off.” Solas agreed, giving a curt nod and curtailing arrows from Fen’an’s path as he dashed through the chaos around them.

Heat from the sprint travelled throughout Ramia’s body, the sound of her pulse beating loud over the muffled sounds of the fighting they were running from. Solas carried Laisa in his arms while Fen’an stayed close by Ramia. When she began to slow down, he pulled her by the wrist to run faster ignoring her protests.

“We’re almost there, hold out a bit longer!”

Her sudden yelp of pain and tumble brought the chase to a halt. Solas was by her side immediately, tutting at the arrow that was lodged into her ankle.

“Get them boys but don’t kill em! They’re no good dead.”

There were six of them in total with swords and arrows trained on them. Solas paid them no mind as he tended to Ramia’s wound. Ramia inched closer to Solas, voice still shaky with shock from the attack.

“Warn them, or bribe them.” Solas’ hand glowed as he healed her ankle, face in grimace at Ramia’s plea.

“I will not bargain with slavers.”

At such close proximity she could feel the magic Solas was pooling into his centre, old and cold as his eyes glowed when he turned his attention to the slavers. Within moments they’re bodies turned to stone, unmoving.

Ramia released a sigh of relief. Her hair was a big tangled mess of a mane, over heating her. Solas pulled it back to inspect her, letting out a worried grunt at how pale her face had become. Ramia darted her eyes frantically.

“Where’s Laisa?” Ramia asked, Solas searched and found her by Fen’an side, safe despite her distraught expression at what had transpired.

“She is safe,” Fen’an approached Solas awaiting orders. “Set up camp.” He ordered the boy. Ramia attempted to protest, trying to rise on her feet which Solas refuted at he strengthened his grip on her.

“No healing will fix the stress your body has been through; you need to rest.” She would have protest further if small hands didn’t cling to her, small eyes full of worry and pleading at her.

“Ramia please sleep, I don’t want you in pain anymore…” Ramia bit at her bottom lip, gaze turning from Solas to Fen’an.

“I want to speak to Laisa.” She demanded. “Alone.”

“This is stupid! Sir enough of this!”

Fen’an’s mouth was agape at his master obeying her command. He looked back and forth from the two girls to Solas before grumbling and joining Solas as he began a fire.

“My lord, why do you insist on doing what that child says?!” Solas smirked, laying a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“You can get a lot more out of people if you cooperate with them. Her demand is not entirely unreasonable.”

When they were no longer within earshot Ramia turned her attention back to her sister. Laisa still clung to her.

“I’m sorry Laisa, you shouldn’t have to see all this, I didn’t want any of this to happen…” She inhaled deeply to settle her breathing. “You know mother would never have kept you a secret from him if she didn’t have to.”

Laisa nodded, but understanding a situation and liking it were two different things, and Ramia could see the hurt in her eyes.

“Mamae still loves babae and babae still loves mamae. But they keeping fighting anyway.”

“It’s complicated for them…”

“You don’t think it is.”

Ramia rolled her eyes playfully. “I don’t find anything complicated.”

That got her small giggle out of Laisa, short lived as it was. Laisa looked over to her father, his hands clenched together in front of his as he gazed at the fire, brows downward deep in thought. Ramia followed her gaze, Laisa needed to be with her mother. Absolute was her mind in this, she was too young to be ripped away from her. Turning again to Laisa, she nudged her to pay attention.

“Laisa…do you want to go with him? Do you want to go with your father?”

Laisa looked between this man she had only just met and Ramia, a whine escaping her. Ramia hushed her and hugged her close, the tell-tale whine a habit of Laisa’s when she didn’t like a topic of discussion or was indecisive to the point of frustration. Laisa buried her face into Ramia’s shoulder, small sniffles escaping as she clung tightly to her.

“Sssh, don’t cry! It’s alright, you don’t have to decide, not now. I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

“I want to stay with you. I don’t care about the other stuff.”

“I know.”

“Please sleep…”

Ramia staggered to her feet, joining the other two elves by the fire. Solas jumped up immediately at the sight of her, gesturing to a makeshift bedroll. She suddenly became much more aware of how exhausted she was, sinking down and sleep already settling over her.

 

* * *

 

When Ramia opened her eyes she was in the fade, more specifically Skyhold. The control she gained over her magic through the years, the more real the places her mind conjured felt. Her toes wriggled through grass below her feet and she welcomed the cold mountain air into her lungs.

The courtyard was empty, few horses remained and even the tavern above released no cheers or rowdy shouts. This couldn’t be blamed on the fade. Skyhold had been quiet long before Ramia had been sent off on her quest. Many of her mother’s companions going their separate ways after she disbanded the Inquisition. They would have left themselves but aside from duty, Ramia and Moro had no home or clan to return to, so at Skyhold they remained.

She climbed the stone steps till she came to entrance of the great hall, a few elves were scattered around, keeping the entire castle in a liveable state. Elves who had not defected to the Dread wolf’s cause had stayed behind at Skyhold. There was a sense of unease across the entire south, like chaos was always just around the corner as the former Inquisitor continued to fight against Solas while also trying to save him. The elves didn’t acknowledge her however, she may as well have been a part of the furniture. Nonplussed by the predicament she continued through till she came to the entrance of the Rotunda.

Most of Skyhold remained unchanged, this space included. Ramia spent time here and in the library more than anybody, her gaze ghosting across the tapestries that told the story of her mother’s rise to power.

“I see she has not disturbed this part of Skyhold.”

Ramia jumped and twisted around to the sound of the voice, Solas stood by one of the murals. He no longer donned the robes reminiscent of the sentinels who followed him. His attire was that of his old attire, clothes more familiar to his time spent with the Inquisition. It hurt to look at him like this. Like this he was Solas, her hahren. It was easier to hate and fear him when he was decorated in armour and furs.

“No she hasn’t…” Ramia held her chin up high, her expression cold and bitter. “She doesn’t come to the rotunda much. It hurts her too much.”

Solas smiled wistfully as a finger traced over a miniscule mistake in the mural, too small to be noticed but he remembered. A sneeze too loud that jolted him during his work, it was the first time he’d ever seen his vhenan feel so guilty about anything. it seemed so trivial now. Forlorn, his hand slowly fell from the mural, turning his attention to Ramia.

“Of course…always so swept by your emotions vhenan…” He mumbled to himself. Ramia kissed her teeth, nose scrunching up at his consistent use of that endearment for her mother. 

“If you miss her so much go bother her dreams instead of mine.”

Solas averted his gaze from the painting, arms folded behind him as he approached her.

“It is you I wish to speak with, your physical body needs rest, so we will discuss what I have to say here,” He took a seat at his desk, adjusting as if he had never left it in the first place. His entire posture was relaxed, leg crossed over the other as his hands rested in his lap. Ramia had to remember the fade was his domain. Her dream or not, he held the strings that kept the fabrics of the dreaming world together.

“What was said between me and Laisa is none of your business. I won’t talk about it.”

Within the blink of an eye a chair was conjured next to his. Solas extends his hand for her to sit, which she does, all while trying to keep a decent enough distance.

“That is not what I wished to speak about.”

Ramia folded her arms, closed off and grunting at him to say his piece.

“While of course you are an incredibly stubborn child…” Ramia’s eyes narrowed dangerously as she cleared her throat. Solas coughed holding back his tongue to rephrase. “Young woman.” A smile stretched across his face as he corrected his choice of words.

“You may continue.”

“Thank you. Now, as I was saying Ramia, you are incredibly stubborn but…” His eyes glassed over as his mind reverted to memories of her mother. “It pales in comparison to your mother...”

“So….?”

“I want you to understand Laisa’s situation. While I empathise with what you are doing, you cannot stop the restoration of Elvhenan. No matter what any of us want….it must be done. Would you really see her grow and have a life amongst you only to lose you both? To outlive and loose everyone and anyone she would care for again and again?” Ramia frowned and pulled her seat closer.

“When you speak, do you listen to what you say? Honestly like…do you?” Solas glared at the young girl, exhaling heavily. “She’s not a baby Solas, the attachment is already there, you can’t change that.” Her eyes and voice suddenly took a mark darker tone as she stared him dead in the eyes.

 “Or will you make her forget? Like you did to Cole.”

Skyhold shattered like glass around them, the raw fade their new environment. Ramia leapt to her feet, her heartbeat amplified as fear grew in place of her cockiness. Solas abandoned his attempts at co-operation. Hurt and anger flooded him, raw and hot.

“Do not push me Ramia, I am not the monster you wish to convince yourself I am.” She didn’t dare answer back, shaking hands betraying her attempts to appear unafraid of the man before her. “You are both involving yourself in matters you do not understand.”

“What’s at that temple Solas? What’s there that you don’t want us to find?”

Her only reply was snapping awake. Solas and Fen’an were up and readying themselves for travel. Laisa nudged Ramia to rise, taking hold of her hand and pulling her to follow as they continued towards their destination.  

 

 


	12. Splitting Up

“I had hoped I’d be proven wrong.”

Laisa’s delighted squeal erupted as she jumped out of her father’s arms, running at full speed towards the woman by the campsite across the path.

“Mamae!”

Moro bent on one knee, pulling Laisa into a crushing hold and burying her face in her hair. Placing a hard kiss to her forehead and checking her for any injuries.

“I missed you mamae.” The little girl exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck, urging her to pick her up and hold onto her more.

“I missed you too, I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long.”

Solas watched from afar, touched yet filled with grief. The sight of his estranged love and their child together, pulled at something buried deep. The love and devotion shining in Moro’s eyes left when they settled on him, replaced by caution, like she was waiting for an attack. Her attention was drawn back to her daughter.

“Are you hurt Laisa?”

“I would never allow harm to come to our child Vhenan…” Moro did not spare him a glance but her eyes narrowed, catching sight of Ramia and softening again. Ramia ran to her mother’s side. Moro tutted and scowled at the sight of Ramia, her hawk-like gaze not missing the tired state of her and the bandaged wounds.

“Such a shame how limited your protection is.”

“Moro…”

“Be quiet. I have had to spend a large amount of time in shite company, all but Heir remains of my company, and I had a viper in my nest.” Her eyes slowly veer towards him, sharp and stabbing. “Do not push my anger further by giving me excuses to the state of my daughter’s wellbeing.”

Solas kept silent, nothing he said would be able to diffuse the tension and opt for saying nothing at all.

“I’m sorry…” Moro turned to look at Ramia who had spoken, squinting and wrinkling her nose.

“The fault is mine.” She said as she smiled to reassure her. “You got yourself and Laisa here alive. You’ve done well.” Ramia bit at her lip and nodded, still guilty and disappointed in herself.

“Where is Athras Solas?” Solas stood tall, hands clasped behind him as he regarded Moro. “Silence? Heir, find him. Then return to Lailani as we discussed.” The elf dressed in Dalish armour and Andruil’s vallaslin heeded her word. No one stopped the assassin from leaving as she disappeared through the trees. Solas cautiously approached, keeping a respectful distance.

“His death is unnecessary.” Moro handed Laisa over to Ramia, regarding Solas with a casual indifference as she went to gather her things.

“Kill him? He endangered the lives of my children, handing them straight to the one person he was instructed not to. He will live, don’t you worry about that, I can’t teach him a lesson if he’s dead.”

“These last few years have made you cruel it seems.”

“You would know all about being cruel wouldn’t you?”

 “Your argument is less than entertaining, perhaps we should concentrate on the task at hand.” Abelas stood before them both, impatient and levelling his gaze towards Solas. “We have wasted enough time Solas.”

“You are right,” Solas’ turned to Ramia who still held Laisa in her arms, she clutched her tighter as she realised his intent. “I would rather not be forceful….Please, let me take her.”

“No.”

“Shocking.” Abelas claimed, deadpan.

“Abelas.” Chided Solas, urging the sentinel not to agitate the situation. When he turned back, Moro was up close, anger and protective all in one. “Please Moro…”

“No, you will not take her from me!”

“She can’t stay with you!”

“You don’t get to decide that!”

“This would not even be happening if you had not kept her from me!”

His usual calm demeanour was replaced by his own anger and frustration. Which did nothing to calm the conflict.

“Oh so you could sneak her away as a babe? I didn’t picture you as the kind of person to do that, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at anything you may be capable of.”

The argument escalated, neither Solas nor Moro relenting. Fen’an and Abelas stood further away, realising that getting involved would be futile. Fen’an pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Why doesn’t he just kill them and be done with it?”

A long drawn out sigh was Abelas’ only response, realising the young sentinel has attracted the anger of the other young woman within earshot. Laisa clung to Ramia’s leg as she approached the young man.

“That is the third time you’ve made a threat on my life, shut your mouth before I do it for you.” Abelas stepped towards the young woman, opening his mouth to object.

“Mind your own business!” Ramia yells up at the hooded sentinel before he could even get a chance to speak. Abelas went tight lipped and narrowed his eyes at the girl, but opt for silence. Fen’an’s anger spiked as well but was held back as Abelas placed a hand up to his chest.

“Don’t encourage her.”

From this distance Laisa couldn’t properly hear what her parents were saying, and everyone else seemed to be too preoccupied with watching each other or yelling at each other. Grumbling, she kicked at a few pebbles that laid around her until a strange noise echoed around her.

Laisa turned to the source, a small ball of light buzzing in her face.

“Hello.” She whispered. The wisp-like creature returned her greeting in its own strange language, an echoed lilt at the end of each noise it made. Whatever the wisp was, it was eager for Laisa’s attention. And being so easily distracted, Laisa herself was more than happy to engage with it. The wisp flew away, bouncing up and down in the air. Wanting her to follow.

Laisa looked up at Ramia, unaware of what was happening. The little girl sneaked away, following the wisp to the entrance of the temple. When she approached the entrance she paused hesitantly, a hand reached out to touch an invisible wall. Shrugging her head when the wisp urged her to follow, the ball of light danced around her and insisted again. Placing her hand against it again she was able to pass through.

Ramia’s argument was cut short when she could see her sister further ahead in the corner of her eye.

“Laisa!” Ramia’s cry of distress sent everyone turning towards the temple. Moro yelled Laisa’s name, running towards the entrance. Panic welling up inside her as Laisa moved further into the temple and disappearing into the darkness inside. Whatever barrier Laisa had moved pass did not extend the curtesy to Moro and the others.

Solas caught up, panicked as he placed his hands against the invisible wall, eyes and magic searching frantically for what it was.

“Laisa! No no no…” Moro beat her hands against the barrier, she was no mage and she cursed it as she realised how useless she was in this situation. “Solas do something!” She screamed at him. Solas nodded, a hand raised for her to step back as he charged his mana into the barrier.

“That is a powerful ward. You will need a great deal of magic to break it down.” Abelas remarked as he rapped a knuckle against it. “Me, Fen’an and the girl will take it down.”

“Yes. There is bound to be another entrance, the Inquisitor and I will find it.”  Moro was already sprinting around the corner of the temple entrance. “Moro! Damn it…” Solas was running after her. “Take down that barrier and find us inside.” He yelled behind him to Abelas.

“Think you can handle it da’len?” Fen’an smirked at Ramia as he cracked his wrists, scoffing at her use of a staff. Ramia walked past him, but not before bashing her shoulder into his to knock him off balance.

“Play nice Fen’an, the Dread Wolf’s child is in danger,” Abelas blandly remarked. “Time is of the essence.”

 

* * *

 

“Where’s that fucking entrance?!”

Moro was ripping at vines, hand desperately searching for any sort of clue to a hidden door, anything that would get them inside. Solas tried to grab her arm but she jerked away from his hold, tears threatening at the corners of her eyes.

“We will find her Moro.”

Moro cried out in frustration. “She can’t be left alone Solas!” His name came out in a sob. So much time spent apart only for her to be taken away again, all the many horrible outcomes that could occur playing in her head. Moro’s hands buried inside her hair and clutched at her scalp. She did not pull away this time when Solas put his hands on her shoulders, his forehead pressed to hers as he spoke to her in a hushed and soft tone.

“Breathe…calm yourself vhenan. We will find her, but you must remain calm.” Moro let out another sobbing breath as she tried to control herself. “I swear we will find her. Alive.”

He lifted his hands to pull her face up, forcing her to look at him. It had been so long since they had been this close, face to face without the help of the fade. The anger and tension was still there but so was something else, something neither of them were ready to address.

“She’s sensitive to spirits Solas, she could attract anything in there…”

“I know…her behaviour is…interesting, to say the least. We will find her.” Moro wiped the tears from her eyes as Solas pulled away.

“What do you know about this temple Solas? Do not keep anything from me.” Solas twisting his head to gaze up at the large ruin.

“Do you not know? I’d assume you would know something, considering you were after it as well.” Moro followed behind him.

“I know it is dedicated to June.” Her eyes fixed on nothing in particular, gaze darting to Solas and back. “The voices…told me.” Even during the time of the Inquisition, after Moro had drank from the Well of Sorrows it was an unspoken subject between them. The fight that ensued told them both that neither would relent their opinion on the subject. Solas had been incredibly worried, when she turned to look at him it was clear he still was. “There’s an artefact in that temple, what it is however I don’t know.”  Moro glared at Solas. “But that is not going to help us get inside is it?”

“No, it won’t. Let’s see…” Solas’ hand grazed across one of the walls. “If I was a mediocre inventor with a colossal ego…Where would I put my secret entrance?”

“Weren’t too fond of June were you?”

Solas curled his lips slightly in amusement.

“Not particularly.” He claimed under his breath as his eyes came upon a small buried device, pushing vines and dead branches from his view. “Here we are. This should only take a moment.” Moro paced back and forth as Solas channelled small concentrated currents of electricity into the device.

“What is it?”

Solas quirked his lips, silently pleased her casual curiosity for elvhen wonders lost to time had not waned over the years. He turned slightly, inviting her closer to observe him.

“It’s a lock of some kind yes? We can get in with this?” He hummed in confirmation, concentrating harder to get the last bits of the mechanics solved.

The lock made a clicking sound before breaking into pieces. June’s temple was old, a hidden door should have opened, but instead the secret entrance collapsed in itself. Only dust and rubble remained. Moro tried to rush ahead but was held back, a protective hold against her.

“We must be careful,” With a wave of his hand Solas illuminated the room, scones now alight by veilfire aligned down the narrow corridor. “June enjoyed weaving magic and metals to do his bidding when slaves weren’t enough. This temple will be crawling with his constructs.”

“Then we should warn the others.”

“Abelas is aware.”

Moro disregarded his assurances, replacing her prosthetic. The new one with a dagger at its end. Another dagger was pulled from its sheath by her hip, Solas stared at her arm with something between guilt and unease. Moro followed his line of sight.

“What?” It was said calmly, with a bite of malice to her tone.

Solas shied away, a hushed “nothing” Uttered. “Let us press on”.

 

* * *

 

A gush of force stumbles Ramia and Fen’an as they break open the barrier, Abelas being more prepared stood his ground.

“Finally.” Abelas grumbles, dusting himself off and heading inside the temple, with Ramia fast behind him. Before Fen’an can join them, the ward re-emerged, keeping him out.

“Oh no.” Sarcasm dripped from Ramia’s tone, unable to keep a satisfied smirk off her face as she leaned against the barrier, hip cocked out. Abelas drew Fen’an’s attention to him before he could get riled up.

“Who was left behind at the other camp?”

“Drynne wasn’t too far from it, we had a run in with slavers. Although I doubt they were much trouble for her.”

Abelas nodded, it would be too much of a waste of time and energy to try open the barrier again. While he wasn’t too pleased with the company, it would be easier to navigate the ruins with only one other person.

“Meet back with Drynne, inform her of the situation. The Inquisitor still has Heir and her other agents. We cannot have them left to their own devices.”

Fen’an obeyed, bidding Abelas farewell and heading back out into the forest.

Ramia stood rigid, her stance defensive. Abelas could feel her drawing on her mana, surmising that she probably was doing it instinctually. He cursed his luck, while he spared no liking for Moro, the women was silent, preferring to give him the cold shoulder than speak to him when she could help it. Her daughter it seemed, after their first exchange of words would prove to be a pain in his….

Well, she would be difficult, he had no doubts about that. He wasn’t looking forward to traversing June’s temple with her.

“Well then? Which way?” Ramia gestured to the fork in the path, two archways opening to dimly lit hallways.

“Oh? You actually intend to listen and take my advice do you?” Ramia rolled her eyes, shoving the sentinel forward to lead the way.

“I’m difficult, not stupid. Hurry up!”

Abelas grumbled elvhen under his breath, taking the left entrance. The only way out was to move forward and while it had been some time, this was not Abelas’ first time to this temple. Grander and more opulent it once was when he last set foot within its halls.

“Stay close, and do not do anything foolish. The priests of this temple may be gone, but other dangers may yet linger.”


	13. Chapter 13

**_“What…is that....? Lurking in the dark…Oh, wait! I am.”_ **

A deep gurgled laughter echoed deep within the bowls of June’s temple. Numerous wisps littered the room, dim and cowering in any crevice they could find. A silhouette, slithered around the room, gelatinous and constantly morphing.

**_“The forest has been…bustling…as of late…”_ **

The wisps whimpered, fearful. The voice carried throughout the darkness, the lilt of its tone thick and slimy as the sound of it crawled into every crack and surface of stone.

**_“I was starting to believe you had all gotten...sloppy…”_ **

The sounds of crunching bones and breaking rubble across the ground were followed as the creature in the dark, changed positions. A pleased sigh leaving it as it raised a hand out when another wisp, brighter and braver than the others whizzes into the room.

**_“What have you brought me little one? I’ll be so disappointed if I must go without for another decade or two. You little ones are hardly…satisfactory.”_ **

The creature had long spindly fingers the wisp danced around, speaking in unintelligible sounds. The creature gasped in delight as another chuckle dripped from his lips.

 ** _“What have you brought me then?”_** It inhaled long and deep through it nose as it inched further forward, dragging claws across the ground as it sniffed at the air. **_“Oooooooooh…young and vibrant…yet so very, very old. There is so much of it!”_** It turned towards the wisp, allowing it to dance again along his hand.

**_“Finally a sumptuous meal awaits, I had thought I might have to sate myself on scraps. You have done well.”_ **

A small squeal escaped the wisp as the creature swallowed it whole, sending the others scurrying and fleeing. It paid no heed to them as they ran away from him, releasing a long drawn out groan.

**_“So...hungry…”_ **


	14. Tricky Paths

The corridor Solas and Moro walked through seemed to go on forever. Solas had spent the time explaining June to Moro. An eccentric he called him, reclusive and obsessed with his creations. Solas face was hardened as he thought back on that particular member of the ‘Elvhen Pantheon’. He smiled after a time as he eyes trailed over some of the chiselled murals that danced across the walls by their sides.

“Despite all that however, his followers were something to be admired.”

“How so?”

“Their thirst and quest for knowledge was inspiring.” He explained. “You were lucky to find one who would turn their attention away from a book, even if you only needed seconds of their time...do you remember the Vir Dithara?”

“Yes…the one in the Crossroads. I remember.”

The Vir Dithara was one of so many marvels of Elvhenan. When she was there herself, even in its desolate state she was amazed by it. To have seen it in its glory would have meant so much.

“June’s followers were never too far from that grand library, always studying, learning. Only the best of them were given the chance to be accepted as one of his scholars.” Solas went on. “June encouraged ingenuity, bettering one’s self through discipline and study.” Solas sighed wistfully. “Less so once he became power hungry, like the rest of the Evanuris.”

Moro spared him a glance, he still wore the golden armour she had last seen him in all those years ago. He stood taller and more commanding, nothing like the humble apostate she had known and fallen in love with. It should be easy to hate him, to see him as a danger and her adversary.

“Moro?”

But there it was. The way he spoke to her with that sad look in his eyes full of guilt and love, buried deep and pushed aside. This was a reminder why she was fighting him without wanting to kill him, he could still be saved from himself, she could see that part of him that wrestled with what he wanted and what he felt he should do out of duty.

At least that was what she tried to convince herself of. Whatever was in this temple could not fall into his hands, if he was so keen to seek it out himself instead of sending subordinates then there was absolute certainty in the gravity of the artefact’s importance.

“Moro? Are you alright?”

His time spent apart, gathering his army and making plans to sunder the veil had changed him. He seemed more cold, more calculating. Slowly but surely, and she didn’t like it. It filled her with doubt. About their relationship and what they had all those years ago. If not even bearing him a child could deter him from his path, she started to wonder what would.

“I was just thinking on what you have been saying. The Evanuris seem to have been good people, once upon a time...” She placed her still whole hand against her hip. “People who wanted to do good.” Solas narrowed his gaze on her as she levelled him with her own.

“A cautionary tale you should heed. Don’t you think?” She spoke, a provoking tone to her question.

Solas made to speak, but a giggle in the distance took both of their attentions. Moro was calling Laisa’s name, running off ahead. Solas cursed and sprinted after her, dread filling him when he saw her pause and come to a standstill when she entered the next room.

The room was vast and empty, save for rows upon rows of armoured elves. They stood still as statues and it wasn’t until Solas lit the room as he did previously, that it revealed the elves to be mechanical constructs.

“They are dormant,” He reassured as he pulled Moro close to him, before she could charge off ahead again. “For now,” A warning for her as much as himself. “For what is here, June did not want it to be found. These machines will be everywhere within the temple.”

“We have to reach Laisa!” Moro hissed, gripping Solas’ hand and ripping it off her. “How is she even getting through unharmed?”

Solas walked cautiously down the steps, gesturing for Moro to follow.

“If what I saw is correct she is being led by wisps, they will do her no harm.” Themselves, he finished mentally. There was no need to cause Moro anymore distress than she was already going through. Something old and ancient was here, he could feel it, the further they followed Laisa’s trail the stronger the dull heavy sensation of a presence draining on his mana became.

The wisps could not do his daughter harm, but they were drawing her somewhere. Innocent they were not, and he was certain the presence unsettling him was using the wisps to lure his daughter towards it. For what purpose he still was not sure. The problem at hand demanded his attention however, any wrong move could wake these temple guardians. They had to be cautious.

“Was he building an army?”

“Perhaps, June did sometimes prefer the company of his toys than his own people. He would probably have replaced all of his slaves with them, given the chance.”

“How many do you think there are?”

“Enough that we should be cautious.”

The sound of a click echoed in the hall, both look down to see they had stepped on a mechanism as the floor pushed further into the ground that the other stones. The release of the trap sent another stone sinking into the floor, then another and another. They travelled to opposite ends of the hall. Long beams emerged from the walls at each end, a shining blue liquid pouring down into grooves on the floor leading down towards the temple guardians.

“Lyrium…?”

Once it had descended down it flowed through and into them, bringing them to life. Solas pulled Moro closer.

“Try not to-“

All the machines turned to face them.

“Never mind...”

Solas erected a barrier as arrows came flying at them, clattering to the floor upon impact. Moro did what she did best, sneaking past the front lines of warriors and taking out the archers before they could fire at Solas again. They were easy to take down, easier than she felt they should have been. Once she saw Solas dispose of the warrior troops with relative ease himself she was quickly by his side again. A hand went to her shoulder, concern in his eyes when she saw her prosthetic had come loose.

“Are you alright? You are not hurt?” Moro shoved his hand away, and re-adjusted her weaponised arm.

“I’m fine, stop fussing!” She complained, grumbling loudly when he attempted to help her again. Solas frowned, taking a step back and putting some distance between them.

“Forgive me…”

“Let’s find Laisa and see how this all plays out when we reach our destination. Then we’ll see how much forgiveness I have.”

Moro walked ahead to continue their path, sighing long and hard through her nose. Suddenly she yelped in pain, the sound jolting Solas and alerting him to her pain.

Moro fell to the ground, a shock of lightening hitting her straight in the back. Solas turns to the source of the attack and finds a standing automation. Soon they were all re-animating, some abandoning weapons and opting for magic while others continued to rise and come back to life. Moro punched herself in the thigh in hopes it would cease the shaking, when the worst of it stopped she rose to her feet on wobbly legs.

“I knew it was too easy. What now?”

Solas scanned across the guardians, they had to have a weakness.

“Look,” He pointed towards the centre of their chests, glowing a shining bright blue. Brighter than any other parts of their bodies. “The lyrium is keeping them alive. Destroy their centres and they will fall, they have to.”

Moro wasn’t truly convinced, taking one of her hidden daggers and sending it flying straight into the core of one of them. The heart of the machine exploded from the impact and then it fell to the ground, the lyrium slowly ebbing away as well as the life inside it.

“Alright, I can work with that.”

“Go again for the archers! Keep them off me!” 

Moro is swiping past them again, heading straight for her targets. Despite their stubbornness to fall and the durability of their metal physiques, that was all they were. Whatever June planned for them he did not wish to give them any intelligence. Their moves easy to evade and counter. The sheer number of them was what made them challenging.

Moro did not have magic on her side as Solas did, so it didn’t surprise her when he had already taken out the others and began to aid her. When the battle finally came to an end Moro crushed the last machine under her boot, cracking her shoulders and re-sheathing her blade. Solas’ attention was drawn to several wisps who watched them from afar, scurrying away as soon as they were spotted.

“Come, we must hurry.”

 

* * *

 

“Ugh…all these rooms look the same! Are you sure you know where you’re going?”

Abelas sighed for what felt like the fiftieth time, or maybe fifty-fifth? He had lost count after a while. He knew breaking down that barrier would hold consequences, the temple’s magics were still alive. An illusion had been cast making it seem like they were walking in circles. Which technically, they were, but eventually one of these entrances would show a weakness he could exploit, destroying the illusion.

He was sure even if he did explain this to Ramia she would still continue to talk…and talk, and talk.

 So he kept her in the dark. Opting for ignoring her altogether, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep that up.

Ramia bumps straight into him as he ceased walking suddenly. Abelas turned to look down at the elf, her eyes calm but sparked with something akin to a challenge. He was almost twice her height, it would require little to no effort of magic to subdue or do her harm. On top of that he was the only thing keeping her safe from the dangers within the temple.

And yet…

“You just gonna stare at me?”

She was either a brave girl or a dim-witted child. Perhaps both. He was leaning towards both.

“Let me be clear….?”

“Ramia.”

“Ramia, I do not know your issues with the Dread Wolf and to be quite frank with you, I do not care,” Abelas folded his arms in-front of him, regarding the girl with a casual disdain that didn’t go unnoticed as Ramia tapped her foot impatiently. “Some sort of ruined parental bond yes? Considering the relationship between him and the Inquisitor…” Abelas turned his back to her, approaching another archway.

“You and I however, have no such antagonism towards each other. In fact, this is the longest conversation we have ever had.”

“You work for Solas, that’s good enough reason for me not to trust you or like you. Besides Abelas…” Ramia caught up to him, an almost too sweet smile on her face. “My mother met you before apparently, and I was given quite a _colourful_ explanation of what you are like.”

_Her mother’s choice of words had been very, very colourful._

“So trust me, I don’t like our predicament any more than you do.”

“So we are on the same page, good. You would do well to try be co-operative would you not? That was we will have this settled as soon as possible.”

Abelas cast a spell with a click of his fingers, undoing the illusion placed on the entrance to the new chamber. With a sweeping hand gesture, he led her through to the next room. Ramia returned the gesture with her own sarcastic curtsy, taking the lead.

“So, what room is this?”

This part of the temple had the ceiling missing, showing that they were well into the night. Moonlight poured through, the walls reflecting the light and illuminating the room. It made the room beautiful its own way, despite the state of neglect it was in. Something akin to a stage was in the centre of the room, now cracked and overgrown with vines. Rows upon rows of seating went around as high as possible, leading ahead of it was a great staircase.

“Those wishing to earn June’s favour would come to this room,” Abelas explained to her as indicated towards the stage. “Gifts or inventions would be presented, it was considered an honour for the chance to prove one’s self and their talents at the _Coliseum_.”

Ramia listened intently, her mind playing images of what this place must have looked like in its prime. She imagined, noble elves and scholars along the rows of seats. The floor below them polished and gleaming. Ramia wanted to see it for herself.

“What else?”

“Hm?”

“You have to know more! You’re old.”

Abelas frowned at her statement. He wasn’t that old, but he surmised that to Ramia all the true elvhen were old. His knowledge, meagre as it seemed to himself would sound unending and bountiful to her. Ramia herself seemed to have realised the implication of what he said, clearing her throat. A fleeting blush of embarrassment coming over her cheeks.

“Well…Y’know, you’re an ancient elf right? You were there…” She mumbled.

 “This place is not that much of a marvel,” Abelas remarked with a shrug of his shoulders.  My afflictions for coliseums however is non-existent, so I am not the best person to ask for dramatic statements.”

Abelas had become distracted in his chatter, unaware that Ramia had begun to wonder over to the centre of the room.

“Ramia…be careful.”

Ramia turned to face him, an eyebrow arched in questioning.

“Why? What’s gonna happen?”

“The floor does not look stable, come here.” Ramia snorts, ignoring his order and continuing to explore until she comes to the centre of the entire Coliseum. “Do you ever listen?” he almost shouted, unnerved by the deep cracks that decorated the entire structure the girl stood on.

“It’s fine Abelas, honestly…” Ramia crossed her arms against her chest. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

At that moment the floor collapsed beneath her, a scream echoing and her staff dropped and abandoned next to the hole she had fallen through. All that was left once the dust had cleared.

Abelas squatted down, arms resting against his knees as he peered down into the whole. Completely and utterly unsurprised by what had happened.

Wherever she was, it was a long way down.  

“Well…I’ll be sure to let your mother know you died bravely.” Abelas muttered as he rose to his full height, heading towards the large staircase to meet with Solas and Moro.

He paused in his steps, turning to look at the staff that sat abandoned by the hole. His mind battling with himself. Questioning whether he could do what he wanted in good conscience. After a few minutes of mental debate Abelas cursed groaned quietly, taking long quick strides over to the hole and picking up Ramia’s staff. Hand on hip and tapping the staff against the ground.

“Mythal give me strength...” He prayed, running a hand over his face before descending below to find her. If he was lucky she would have hit her head and fallen unconscious.

Considering his luck so far, he very much doubted he would be that lucky.


	15. Catacombs & Sneaky Wisps

When Abelas finally reached the bottom, he scrunched his nose up at the excessive dust that gathered in front of him when his feet hit the ground. Ramia laid on the ground not too far away, the only sign she was alive being her pained groans as she clutched at her head.

“Are you alright?” He asked as he helped her to her feet. Ramia was still recovering from the fall to give a snarky reply and instead nodded, allowing Abelas to check for any serious damage. “You’ll be fine. So long as you start to listen to me from now on.”

“How was I supposed to know the ground would literally collapse beneath me?!” Ramia snapped at him, slapping his hands away as she became more irritable.

“I do recall telling you to stay close by did I not?”

Ramia waved her hand dismissively, pulling her cloak tighter against her.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” Her eyes widened a fraction before she began to search frantically around her. “Shit! My staff…” Abelas clears his throat, revealing said staff for her to take. Ramia stubbornly glares at him before snatching it from his grasp.

“Thank you…I guess.”

“You are welcome.”

They stood in front of each other awkwardly for a few seconds, Ramia’s eyes trailed off to the hole that she had fallen through. She was an inconvenience to Abelas, there was no doubt about that in her mind. Yet he had gone out of his way to come after her.

“You could have left me behind.” She pointed out. Abelas followed her line of sight, a grunt rumbling from his throat in agreement.

“The idea of doing so did come to mind I will admit,” A thought came to mind which caused Abelas to smile a fraction. “Perhaps my timely rescue has at least earned me your co-operation?” Ramia leaned back, jokingly contemplating his question.

“Maybe…Just a bit though. Takes more than one simple rescue to win my favour y’know.”

“Of course.” He replied dryly.

The mood and tension between them seemed to lift a fraction. Ramia’s gratitude for Abelas not leaving her behind, did earn him some points. Even if she would not openly admit it. Abelas felt no need to point it out.

Ramia turned on her heel, regarding their current situation.

“So Abelas, where are we now?” tapping her staff against the ground she cast the crystal gem at the top to glow, providing light for them both. Abelas poured magic into her staff to make it glow brighter, revealing the room to have coffins, bones and prayer stones. Skulls seemed to have become part of the temple’s foundations, due to a shortage of tombs or something more sinister neither of them could say.

“Catacombs.”

“Creepy…”

Ramia recoiled away when she found a skull too close for comfort near her foot, bumping into Abelas and immediately wrapping her arms around his own.

“Please tell me there’s a way out.” Abelas pulled his arm from her grasp and placed it upon her lower back. Pushing her to start moving through the underground tunnels.

“Considering our unorthodox entrance, yes. Knowing our luck it will be incredibly far and take us to the complete other side of the temple. Where we won’t need to be.”

“Living up to your namesake aren’t you? You’re _great_ for morale,” Abelas ignored her comment and pushed her forward to light the way. Their footsteps echoed through the tunnels that seemed to go unending. The only other sign of life being the occasional rat that scampered across the walls. Ramia groaned at the sight of them, feet stomping and gripping at Abelas arm yet again. “Why rats?! I hate rats!”

“I imagine they haven’t had a good scrap of food for some time…let us hope they do not crave loud and portly elves.”  

That remark earned him a good elbow to the gut.

“That’s not funny! Gods this place gives me the creeps…”

“It is a tomb full of the dead Ramia. I would be slightly concerned if you felt at home.”

Despite all his jests and Ramia’s bravado she truly was unsettled by the catacombs. He kept a hand on her shoulder, a reminder she wasn’t by herself down here and that everything would be fine. Unsure why he felt the need to comfort her.

The sound of a large slab of stone hitting the ground broke from behind them, causing them both to turn sharply behind themselves. Feet frozen to the ground.

Out of the dark came out a handful of undead, nothing but bone and rags. Abelas muttered something in elvhen Ramia couldn’t pick up, his hand already clenched in a fist of fire. Ramia looked from the skeletons to Abelas and his defensive stance. An amused smirk on her face.

“Abelas.” She snorted, a hand cocked on her hip. “They’re a bunch of bones, what are they gonna do?”

Within moments the collar of her cloak was being pulled, as she stumbled backwards the sound of a fireball hitting the wall she stood in front of moments ago was ringing in her ears. Abelas had pulled her out of the way of an attack cast by one of the skeletons now coming after them.

“What the heck?! They can use magic?!”

One of the skeletons threw another. Abelas shoves Ramia to the ground, his legs spreading further apart in an offensive stance.

“Stay down!” He yelled before unleashing a crushing force of magic at their enemies. The strength of the blast leaving the undead in pieces all across the tunnel.

Ramia stared wide-eyed at Abelas from below, amazed at the sheer control and strength of his magic. If she had tried that spell the entire area would have collapsed, if she could even muster that amount of power. Ramia was reminded that Abelas was no mere elf. Not as old and powerful as Solas but still, something for her to keep in mind when she was giving him a hard time.

“You can get up now.”

“I don’t know…sentinels, slavers and now undead? I think I might stay down here…ok never mind!”

Abelas was hoisting her up from her collar again until she could stand on her own two feet, ignoring the girl’s glare as she dusted herself off.

“Your skinny arms are quite deceiving.”

Abelas pursed his lips at yet another insult for no bloody reason.

Both continued their journey through the tunnels, the sound of shuffling feet pausing their steps once again. Abelas turned, pinching the bridge of his nose at the sight of more undead behind them again as far as their eyes could see.

“ _Shit…why is this happening to me_?” Abelas growls, the elvhen tongue lost and unimportant to Ramia as she stared at the undead heading towards them.

Ramia held up her staff, ready to fight but was stopped by Abelas, as he grabs her by the wrist.

“No, there are too many. And this tunnel is too narrow, we run.” Ramia squeaked in surprise as she was dragged at an alarming speed through the tunnels, every now and then coming to a rough halt as Abelas decided which paths they should take.

“Do you even know which way you’re going?” Abelas sends another force of magic to slow the undead down, muttering a quick ‘no’ before grabbing her again and sprinting off. “What do you mean no?! We need to get back to the temple!”

“I am more concerned with not getting overwhelmed by undead.”

“I just saw you take out five of them like it was nothing! OW!” Somehow some of the creatures had weapons other than magic, sending an arrow their way. Ramia paused and fell to the ground, revealing an arrow to have slashed at waist. “Not again!” She screamed, a pained sob leaving her as she squeezed her eyes shut in pain. “Shit…shit, shit, shit…”

Abelas cursed under his breath realising that fleeing would be pointless and never ending. Besides…

They had hit a dead end.

Abelas looked from the undead to Ramia on the floor in pain, cursing again before picking her up, careful to avoid the wound in her side.

Ramia screamed as she was roughly hauled up into his arms. Abelas carried her to the dead end, ready to blast a hole through the wall. Another fireball was sent their way that he barely avoided. It collided with the ground below them, crumbling the structure and sending them both tumbling through and sliding downwards.  Ramia used what strength she had to erect a barrier below them. Wherever this led them, she was not going to make it a painful landing.

Finally reaching the bottom, they stumbled and fell into a ravine. The sound of water crashing against rock filling their ears. Abelas groaned eyes opening and sighing at the sight of them being back in the forest.

“Abelas…?” Ramia was still on the ground, hand bloody as she held it against her wound. Abelas was quickly at her side, picking her up again and taking her into a nearby cave. “Where are we? Fuck! Gently!” She groaned as he set her down.

“I’m going to rip your shirt.”

“What?”

What started as a small puncture hole became much larger, giving Abelas a better view of the damage the arrow did. Placing a hand against the wound and pouring healing magic into it.

“The catacombs covered more ground than I expected them to, once you are healed we shall make our way back as soon as we can.”

“How far away are we?” she asked, Abelas looked back to the waterfall outside the cave, tutting.

“I remember no signs of water by the temple, we are most likely far enough to make it a troublesome journey.”

“How far Abelas?”

“I do not know.”

“Damn it…this is my fault.”

Abelas scoffed. “I will not argue that point.” Ramia tried to rise, wincing as she was encouraged to lay back down. “I know you worry for your sister and mother, but you cannot be so eager to move on ahead.”

“We just dealt with undead! Who knows what else is in that temple, I need to find them!” Ramia bit at her lower lip, anger and frustration building up inside of her in spikes. “One arrow and I’m practically useless…” Abelas blew out a sigh, feeling some level of sympathy for the girl.

“While I am loathe to pay you a compliment. If you had not made that barrier our landing would have been very messy,” The glow around his hand vanished, he rose to his feet and offered his hand out for Ramia to take. “What has happened has happened. Do you want to sit here and cry about it or get back to the temple Da’lath’in?” Ramia pouted, picking up her staff. Grateful it had not been lost in the fall. She walked off ahead, unaware of the small upturned curve on Abelas lips for her re-found vigour for the task ahead of them.

 

* * *

 

“Wait!”

Laisa giggled as she continued to follow the wisps. Eventually she came to a dark room, one single wisp larger than the others sat in the middle. That particular wisp grew brighter, echoing joyfully at her arrival as it bounced around. Urging her to come closer.

Laisa ran to it, sitting on her knees and holding it close.

“Hello! You’re really big! Not like your friends.”

The tinier wisps gathered around, their voices joining together melodically before becoming fearful again. They scurried away, all except for the large one in her hands. Despite that however, it shook with fear all the same. Laisa cooed at the spirit, imitating stroking movements.

“What’s wrong?”

Laisa shot her eyes up towards the darkness behind her, shimming on her knees to face the presence she felt lurking in the dark.

“Hello?”

**_“You can sense me can you? My my…they certainly have brought me something interesting haven’t they?”_ **

Laisa cocked her head to the side, hushing the wisp in her lap. “The wisps brought me here? Why? Are you alone here?”

The creature never emerged from the darkness, preferring to stay obscured, but it moved about lazily. Several pairs of eyes glowing in the dark.

**_“Oh yes…all alone. I’m glad I finally have someone to speak to. It gets so lonely down here in the dark.”_ **

Laisa didn’t know why but she felt something pulling at her. Something deep down inside her told her to keep her distance however, so she stayed where she was. The wisp in her grasp broke into smaller ones.

“But you have the wisps, aren’t they your friends?”

**_“They are…in a sense…but they are such simple creatures. It would be lovely to speak to someone new…”_ **

“You want to talk?”

**_“Yes, little one. Just to talk…nothing more…”_ **

A wisp wandered too close to the creature, revealing one elongated claw, Laisa jumped up to her feet at the sight of it. A chill ran her spine at the sound of the creature inhaling deeply.

**_“Come closer…Laisa…I will not hurt you…”_ **


	16. Change

“Look, more wisps.”

The small spirits flew past Moro and Solas, ignoring them and heading off in some unknown destination.

“They came from there, Laisa can’t be far.” Moro whispered. Solas broke into a jog, worry filling him and urging him to run towards the room at the end of the hall.

“Solas? Solas what’s wrong?! Solas!”

Solas had reached out for his magic to sense their daughter. The first he felt was her spirit itself, then fear. Laisa’s fear and then…

“She is not alone…We must hurry!”

So many questions ran through Moro’s head. What did he mean she wasn’t alone? Where was she? Who was after her? Was she alright? They couldn’t reach the next chamber sooner, but what greeted them was total darkness and there in the middle surrounded by wisps was Laisa, frozen in place.

Moro wanted to scream her name, beg her to come back but Solas held a hand to mouth. His attention upon the many sets of eyes that stared hungrily at Laisa. Moro pulled at his hand, bringing it low enough to hiss through her teeth at him.

“What are you doing?! We have to get her away from that thing!” Despite her hushed yet harsh tone, Laisa heard her mother’s voice.

“Mamae?! Mamae!” Laisa was running until a clawed hand held her down. “Mamae! Babae!” Laisa whimpered and cried in a shrill voice, the heavy weight of the creature’s hand holding her in place. Laisa cried out again and again to her mother and father for help.

**_“We have visitors!”_ **

Solas and Moro tensed up at the sound of the creature’s voice. Moro’s teeth bared in a snarl as Solas held an iron grip to keep her in place, his eyes darting from the monster’s eyes to his daughter. With a hesitant wave Solas brought like to the room, revealing the monster hiding in the dark. Their eyes widened in horror at the sight before them.

The monster took up almost the entirety of the far half of the chamber, towering above them tenfold. Many beady yellow eyes littered its face, some concentrating on Laisa, some on Solas and Moro as well as squinting at the bright light now illuminating the room. The creature was gargantuan, green with slime and constantly shifting its shape with two long and large arms. It’s claws sharp and elongated.

“What…is that?” Moro questioned with horror.

The monster clicked its tongue, adjusting to the light and widening its mouth in a smile, sharp jagged teeth on display. It turned its attention to Solas and Moro both, a deep chuckle rumbling from its throat.

**_“Does it really matter what I am? So rude…interrupting my meal.”_ **

“Your meal?!” Moro repeats, anger rising like bile in her throat.

The monster waves his spare hand to the wisps that dance and scurry near the chamber’s entrance.

**_“My little toys have been very good. So many centuries in the dark…they always ensure I am well fed.”_ **

Solas curled his lip in disgust and understanding of the monster. “A hunger demon…”

 ** _“Perhaps…what I am is of no concern of yours. Tiny as this elf is_** …” Drool dripped from its teeth. **_“Old blood like this is rare indeed. You will not have it back!”_** His voice took on a shriek at the last remark but did nothing to deter Moro’s own anger. She shoves Solas out of her way, marching down the steps.

“Her your hands of my daughter demon!”

All the demon’s eyes land on Moro, its gross cackle vibrating through the air. The ground shaking as it slapped at the ground.

“You want to feed you pig?! I have something better for you then.”

It’s hand never leaves Laisa as he addresses Moro.

**_“You are nothing! You would barely serve to sate me for a few minutes!”_ **

Moro ignored his insult, closing her eyes and willing forth the voices of the well. Making their voices brighter, hoping this creature would be able to hear them.

Solas felt it too, the hairs on his neck standing on end when he began to suspect what her plan was.

“Moro! What are you doing?! Stop!”

Moro was walking closer, the voices becoming louder, bellowing out at her to keep away from the creature. That this abomination was beyond help. Moro ignored their pleas, all that mattered was Laisa.

All of the creature’s eyes trained on Moro harder within seconds, sensing the power of the well inside her. Within moments it was charging after her, abandoning Laisa and slamming Moro on her back, down on the ground with its giant palm.

Laisa wanted to run to her mother’s side but was pulled across by her father who quickly placed a ward around her. A cage as well as protection.

“Babae!” She cries, Solas placed his hand against the barrier, hushing her.

“I will get mamae, _do not worry.”_

_turned back, the hunger demon still pinning Moro to the ground._

_Moro gritted her teeth, hands digging into its meaty wrists. The beast inhaled her scent deep and long, eyes rolling to the back of its head and cackling deeply before coming inches to her face._

**_“There are so many of them!!! So much to drink and take!”_** The monster sent a shockwave at Solas when he ventured too close, slamming him against the wall. Eyes never leaving Moro as she continued to struggle in its hold. **_“Once I have my fill of you, I’ll have them both as well.”_**

“Disgusting pile of waste.” Moro seethed as she spat in the demon’s eye. A low growl grumbled forth before its hand travelled up to her face. A ray of light emitted from his palm before slamming her away as she slides across the floor.

“Mamae!” Moro curled into herself, willing the pain to go as she shut her eyes tight. When she opened her eyes to search for Laisa she was only met with darkness.

The demon had taken her sight.

Panic overtook her as her hands searched frantically, ear twitching at every sound and fear building at the sound of the demon’s chuckles echoing behind her.

**_“It’s so much better when there is a chase!”_ **

Moro tried to rise, but the attack from earlier left her leg beaten and useless. Laisa continued to yell for her mother. Moro crawled towards her voice, sobbing as the sounds of heavy footsteps grew louder behind her.

**_“RUN! I CANNOT CHASE YOU IF YOU DO NOT RUN!”_ **

The demon deliberately caused rocks and other debris to collapse, making it harder for Moro to know which direction safety resided.

“Moro!” she raised her head at the sound of her name.

“Solas? Solas?!” Tears fell from her eyes when she felt a claw by her foot. “Solas take Laisa and go! NOW! Get out of here!” She screaming, begging and pleading for him to leave her, even as she felt herself be lifted into the air by her foot.

Solas ignored her pleas, rising back to his feet with fury in his eyes.

Before the demon could swallow her whole Solas summons a stone-fist, colliding it straight into the monster’s jaw. Its teeth a broken and bloody mess as it backed away, screeching in pain.

Moro shook, flinching when Solas’ hand came to rest by her cheek, moving aside hair that clung to her skin. Moro’s hand searched desperately for him.

“Where is Laisa? Solas is she safe?”

“Hush vhenan, Laisa is fine.” Solas urged Moro to stay down. He turned to face the demon that still coward from him, its size shrinking as he got closer. Solas glared at the creature, his hands clenched at his sides.

“What is your name demon?”

**_“Mercy! Mercy! Please!”_ **

“BE SILENT!”

The demon cowered in fear, Solas had not held back in revealing his power. He made sure this creature knew exactly what he was capable of and the cost it would have to pay for harming those dear to him.

Solas raised his hand towards it, sending searing heat that tore at its flesh.

“How many have suffered in your wake spirit? How many have you taken to sate your pitiful hunger?”

 _“LANASTE!”_ The demon howled in pain, its voice shaking the very foundations of the temple with its soul splitting cry. Solas faltered a moment shocked by the elvhen that bawled forth from it. His eyes narrowed, pity filling him as the hunger spirit poured tears unending from the pain.

“You are no demon…or spirit…are you?”

No answer but more whimpers and cries were heard. Solas’ mouth became a thin line before he lifted both his hands, eyes glowing that stark blue before encasing the creature in a purifying beam of light. The magic pained the demon, but it washed away its grotesque form to reveal an elf.

The ancient elf was haggard, skin and bone. Face hollow and inked with June’s vallaslin. He shook there on his knees, eyes wide and confused. Solas ran a hand down his face, a deep painful sigh escaping him as he recognised the elvhen man instantly.

“ **Belavahn…”**

The elvhen man’s eyes grew wider at Solas’ voice.

_“Belavahn…Belavahn…my name…_ _that is_ _my_ _name…_ _Belavahn.”_

Belavahn looked down at his hands, as bony as the rest of him. Cut, bruised and caked with blood. Tears filled his eyes, knowing the blood was not his own. His heart swelled heavy, as his mind slowly remembered himself. Of what became of him.

_“_ _Blessed June_ _…we were stranded. The Vir Dithara gone…all the books gone...everything…”_

Belavahn buried his face in his hands at the sight of Moro and her beaten, whimpering form. His awareness of all he committed as the demon at the forefront of his mind.

Solas placed his hands on his shoulders in comfort.

_“The Vir Dithara and libraries of this temple were everything to you Belavahn…”_

Solas knew Belavahn so many centuries ago, a servant undeserving of his markings. So bright and curious, always starving for more knowledge. When the veil was made many who had not died had been reduced to isolation in their temples. It should not have come as a surprise what became of him.

It hurt him all the same, Belavahn did not deserve such a fate.

_“I killed them…I killed them…”_ **Be** **lavahn sobbed, sigh of relief came over him at seeing Moro across the way, her sight returned and trained on him.** _“_ _Forgive me.._ _._ _forgive me,_ _forgive me_ _child_ _._ _I beg you_ _…”_

“Solas….” Solas turned to see Moro, a hard look on her face as she clutches at her wounds, breath laboured. “Help him.” With a solemn nod he turned his attention back to the ancient elf, eyes shining bright once again.

_“I am the one who should be asking forgiveness_ _my friend_ _…the fault is mine….all of it…”_

* * *

 

“Almost there…oh no…”

“What?” Ramia asked as she caught up to Abelas up the cliff they had fallen from. Abelas pointed towards the horizon, the Temple of June was in the distance surrounded by a decent amount of the forest. “How did we get so far?” she sighed.

Ramia gave Abelas a quick pat on the back. “Well, come on then! We won’t get closer by staring at it.”

“True enough.” He agreed. “Traveling at night is unwise however, we will stay in that cave for tonight. You will eat while I search for Solas in the fade, see what progress he has made.”

“I won’t say no to eating.”

After many failed attempts to catch fish with the blade end of her staff prompting Abelas to electrocute the river, both were left with an abundance of food when they returned back to the cave and made camp.

The fire was warm and welcome after the day they had had. Ramia shrugged off her cloak, removing her hair tie and trying to reduce the amount of knots in her hair. Grumbling and swearing quietly to herself. Her legs stretched out in front of her, glad to finally be able to stop and not have some form of injury ailing her.

Although she had Abelas to thank for that. Despite her mother’s thought on the man he had been much kinder to her than she initially thought he would be. Of course she could chalk that up to the idea that Solas would have him flayed alive if injury came to her. Some small part of her hoped that wasn’t the case, she always hated conditional kindness.

Eventually Abelas came to join her, she pushed her musings to the back of her head and took a fish off the fire to sink her teeth into.

Abelas sat crossed legged by the fire. Pulling off his hood, a sigh on his lips as he ran a hand through hair, scratching at his undercut. Ramia pupils dilated at the sight of him. Long white hair in a plait behind him. Mythal’s vallaslin along his forehead and cheeks.

“Ugh.”

Abelas raised tired eyes at Ramia as she stared straight at him, her face slowly dusting pink at the cheeks.

“What is it?”

“Why aren’t you bald, old and ugly like the rest of the sentinels?!” Abelas raised a confused eyebrow, unsure what could be considered the correct approach to…whatever it was she had just said. Ramia’s lack of subtlety was ridiculous.

Endearing.

But mostly ridiculous.

“I can call you a da’len and waggle my finger at you from now on if that would please you. Perhaps complain about back aches here and there.”

“Oh ha-ha, the old-as-balls sentinel made a joke. You’re a funny man now huh?”

“Apparently a good-looking one too.”

That remark made her blush harder, causing the girl to grumble and turn away. It was very easy to tease the girl, and while it was not the sort of banter the sentinel would usually have, he found a small part of him enjoying to do so.

For whatever reason why was beyond him.

Sleep would come early tonight it seemed though as he made himself comfortable. Placing wards to protect them and preparing his mind to enter the fade. With luck, Solas and Moro had found Laisa and made more progress than the two of them have.


	17. A Moment's Piece (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy....kind of

The walk through the temple was silent, Laisa drifting off in Solas’ arms while Moro looked on ahead. Their steps along the stones echoed down the hall, both too tired physically and emotionally to fill the silence. Moro looked down at her broken prosthetic, kissing her teeth and dumping it on the floor casually before flexing the rest of her arm.

She was relieved to be rid of the added weight it caused, always finding it more of an inconvenience than of any benefit in battle.

They came to an archway, a torn drapery covering as a makeshift door. Solas breathed a sigh of relief when he brushed the draping aside.

“Good.” He remarked, re-adjusting his hold on Laisa and walking down the stone steps.

This part of the temple had an indoor garden, its ceiling made of glass bringing in moonlight and a view of the stars in the sky. What must have been couches dotted different parts of the room, 4 large doors on each wall.

“This was a communal area, servants and sentinels both would have lived here for rest and succour.”

For a moment they had forgotten their separate motivations, Solas with a hand on her lower back and leading her to one of the large doors. Moro for her part allowed the close proximity, allowing him to lead her to the next room. Many beds greeted them, clearly the area where the servants slept.

“Those two rooms should have larger rooms for the higher ranked.”

Solas walked with strong striding steps, opening the next set of doors. The large bed at the centre of the room lay dusty and neglected. With a wave of magic he had the room restored as best he could, enough at least to be able to rest in.

“How convenient.” Moro commented as she crossed her arms, seemingly unimpressed as she reached out for Solas to hand Laisa over. Solas agreed, only to light a fire and set the blankets aside, heart clenching and a small smile reaching his face. The sight of Laisa’ small whimpers and murmurs as she struggled to hold onto sleep was sweet to see, more so when Moro rocked her with a whispered hush on her lips.

Laisa was placed gently into bed, Moro planting a soft kiss on her brow. She avoided Solas’ gaze, brushing strands of hair from her daughter’s face. Her attention was drawn to a small ball of light sparkling from Solas’ fingertips as he brought them to Laisa’s head.

“Solas…” Moro growled lowly in warning. Solas never took his eyes off Laisa, thumb rubbing across her cheek as the little girls face became calmer in her slumber.

“I do not want her to remember what she saw back then. It is a simple spell, she will no longer recall what happened. Her mind will heal.”

“…Thank you.”

Solas looked up in surprise, his face filled with guilt. Recalling the day’s events. “You shame me fenor…”

“What do you mean?”

“I have spent all this time believing your determination to keep Laisa from me was out of spite. A means of getting back at me, for everything.” Solas smiled a moment, but was replaced by pain. “You would have let the demon kill you…”

Moro narrowed her eyes at him, confused.

“She’s my daughter Solas…what did you expect me to do?”

The incident with the hunger demon was terrifying for her. It had been so long since she had fought demons, but to be rendered blind and useless? To be at the mercy of that monster as it toyed with her, that after her death it would come for Laisa next. Moro looked down at her daughter’s sleeping face, her small little nose wrinkling as she dreamed.

“I would do it again if need be.”

“If anyone should have ever bore me a child…I am glad it was you.” Moro scoffed at his remark, rising from the bed.

“Save it Solas.”

Solas, wrapped the blankets proper around his daughter then followed after Moro out of the room, warding the door to protect Laisa inside. Moro brisk into another chamber, most likely used for bathing.

“Fix it. I want to clean up.”

“A please would be nice...”

“Now.”

Moro removed a tie she tucked away, pulling up her hair into a bun. Messy and haphazard due to only being able to use one arm to do it. Solas was by her side, offering to help her.

“No, go away, I don’t want you near me.”

“Moro this is ridiculous; can you co-operate for five seconds? I want to help you.”

“Hah! Help he says! You could have been _very_ helpful a long time ago by not interfering with my plans!”

“Interfere? Interfere?! You have been deliberately thwarting **my** plans at every opportunity!”

“You say that like it’s the most ridiculous thing I could do! Like your plans don’t involve myself and everything in this world being destroyed!” She begun to pace back and forth. “And for what?! For this?” Moro gestured to the ruins around them, hand balling into a fist at her side.

“You fucked over your world and people! While you slept we picked up the pieces! We’re actually starting to make a difference, **I** have made a difference…and you would spit on it. Because it isn’t good enough.” Tears brimmed at the edges of her eyes. “Loving you and giving you a family isn’t good enough…”

“Vhenan…”

“No!” She roared. “Don’t you dare say it! Keep that word out of your fucking mouth!”

Moro couldn’t breathe, everything she felt was pouring out. She didn’t want him to see it, didn’t feel he deserved to see her snap like this, not anymore. Walking away and leaving was her only option, she had to get away from him.

Grateful for the solitude she sat at the edge of the large bed, burying her face in her hand and crying. Five years’ worth of stress and pain finally taking its toll. Moro couldn’t contain it when the source stared her down. She had been willing to look past his true identity and what he had done, willing to show him a better path that what he was seeking to do. So much sacrificed and shared with him and it still wasn’t enough.

For a while she had accepted it. The night of celebration after Corypheus’ defeat, with Ramia at her side and the signs of new life inside of her. She felt she could move on. Laisa would be her small piece of Solas still with her even if he was gone. Her children were her anchor when her faith was shattered as she learnt her history, when she learnt her love was the Dread Wolf and when her friends scattered to the winds as she set pieces in place to stop his plans.

And now he would take one of them away from her. To leave her drown and continue his quest like nothing had happened.

Moro was so lost in her sobbing that she was unaware of Solas standing by the door of the room. His face mirroring her own misery. He knocked, causing her to jump. Red rimmed eyes meeting his own.

“I fixed the baths…use it while I prepare this room for you…”

The steam from the water heated up the entire room and Moro wasted no time getting nude and setting down into the many baths. A long sigh escaped her as her muscles relaxed in the hot water. Moro would immerse herself underwater for as long as possible then come up for air. A new habit over the years when things became too much to bear.

When she returned to the previous room it was liveable and free of dust and grime, just as Solas had said. New armour was waiting for her on the bed, reminiscent of what the sentinels wore. Moro wasn’t too happy about that.

A towel, or what was left of one laid next to it. Patting dry her body, she then sat with crossed legs on the bed drying her hair. It felt good to be clean, time as Inquisitor had made her spoilt, but the feeling of freshly cleaned hair was too good to ignore. Her positive mood was short lived when Solas retuned, hands clasped behind him and body language hesitant.

“Is Laisa still asleep?”

“Yes, she can acquire sustenance in the fade while she sleeps like I can. I’m more concerned for you however.”

Moro’s face didn’t betray anger or irritation, but Solas didn’t miss the way she dried her hair more vigorously.

“Don’t feign worry for me.” She mutters as she used her fingers to comb out any tangles in her hair. “Besides, I have gone hungry before. I will not drop dead at one night without food.”

“I know,” Solas sat beside her on the bed “Even so…I want to help.” Moro pinched the bride of her nose.

“At this point I’m willing to let you have whatever’s in this god’s forsaken temple so I can just take my girls and leave,” Moro noticed his hand coming towards her in the corner of her eye, she moved a hand at his wrist instinctively. “No.”

“Moro, fenorain please…”

“Enough with your pet names! Just…stop…please,” Moro forced herself to look at him, her heart cracking at the sight of him. “I don’t want your help…I…” Her grip on his softened as the aches of hunger chose that convenient moment to gnaw at her. Solas took the hint, bringing a hand to her stomach to ease it. He could not wade off the hunger, but he could ease the discomfort it would cause.

Without thinking his other hand wandered to her arm, the stump of it healed but scarred. Moro’s eyes wondered to it as well, her frown deepening at the sight of it.

“I can’t sew anymore.”

“I am sorry.”

“I couldn’t hold Laisa properly the first time I saw her either, there are a lot of things I can’t do anymore…you’ve taken a lot from me Solas.”

“I know…I am sorry.”

“If you were truly remorseful Solas you would find a better solution to what you are doing. One that doesn’t involve burning the world. You would avoid the death of the woman you claim to ‘love’ or her child you saw as your own, even for a while.”

“Ramia deserves a better than I.”

“Yet you came into her life anyway, I gave you a chance when I told you about her to walk away.” Moro moved back from him, anger replacing the sadness. “You didn’t. Every day was a chance to tell me who you were. You continued everything even when you KNEW you would have to one day walk away!” Moro’s mouth curls in hurt. “I think that’s what hurts the most, you started this, this thing between us when you knew you shouldn’t have.”

“I know that! I wanted to tell you so many times…Do you think I didn’t want that at the time? You, me and Ramia…a family…and now Laisa…” Solas closed his eyes, rubbing tired eyes. “I have my duty Vhenan, I cannot abandon my course, no matter either of us want.”

“Yes you can,” Moro’s hands were on his face pulling him close to look at her trying to reach out to him and make him see sense. “You can fix the world you created without destroying it.” Solas closed his eyes, forehead resting against hers.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, yes you can.”

They were so close now, his eyes trailed down to her lips just within reach. “My love…I want to, believe I do but…” Solas brought a hesitant kiss against the corner of her lips, hand shyly coming to cup her jaw. Moro closed her eyes, a tired sigh against his lips. Resolve to push him away dissipating.

She found it shameful how weak she was with him, how much she could openly admit her need and comfort sought out in him. She had been so hard before he came along, even if opening up had made her a better woman, it made things so much more difficult.

“Why are we doing this?”

A wanly smile reached Solas’ face, his thumb tracing the curve of her cupid’s bow. “The same reason we did all those years ago…”

They both just wanted to love, and be loved in return. Nothing to offer but their loneliness, and the need to see it soothed.

And they didn’t want anyone else but the person sitting in front of them. Moro closed the distance between them, lips pressed slowly against his. Arms wrapped firmly around her as Solas brought her closer, a hand around her waist while the other travelled up into her hair and reaching around to grip her jaw. Pressing their bodies flush against each other.

Goosebumps covered her naked skin as she was pushed against the plating of his armour. A desperate whine left her as he pulled her harder against him, tongue delving inside, reacquainting himself with the taste and feel of her.

“Vhenan…” Solas gasps when they finally parted for air, lips swollen, eyes heavy and dark with their need for each other. “Too long Moro…I have been without you for too long.” Moro gasped as he pinned her down to the bed, kissing her along her jaw till he came to her ear.

“My love,” He whispers, rising to remove his armour. “Banish me, tell me to leave now and I will, I do not want to stop otherwise.” He declares it as he gazes down at her. “It is too painful to be near you.”

“Solas…” Moro breathes, making no moves to stop him. He sees the want in her eyes that mirror his own desires.

He searches her lips again when the last of his armour hits the ground, bodies grinding desperately together. His teeth on her pulse and a hand gripping her hair tight. Moro hadn’t let anyone touch her since Solas, her body aching at familiar fingers dancing across her skin.

“Oh…Solas…” She sighs, feeling the length of him hard as it presses against her. Spreading her legs to have him rub against her, pulling him closer.

Voices screamed at her not to indulge in what would no doubt be a mistake were long since ignored as she pushed herself upright and gives Solas’ shoulders a hard push to lie back. Hand taking the base of him, and settling between his legs.

Years ago she would tease and prod, take her time in making Solas squirm with her tongue. There was no room for that here, both wanted and needed this. She took the entirety of him into her mouth till it was fully filled. Closed eyes and a moan pulling deep from her throat, gasping when she pulled him out before going in again. Cheeks hallowing as she indulges.

“Vhenan,” Solas groaned, hissing through his teeth when she gave extra attention to the head his cock, tongue running across the shaft and hand pumping him with abandon. “Stop, please…” He pulled her by her hair, her mouth leaving his cock with a wet pop. Tightening his hold, he wiped the excess from her mouth before taking her lips again, free hand grabbing her and pulling her into his lap. Hands running up and down her back as he moved from her lips to her neck, suckling with teeth and tongue.

“Someone isn’t holding back are they?” He ignored her comment as he moved his attention south.

Solas’ wordlessly moves his attention to her breasts, giving them a generous squeeze before taking one into his mouth. Moro gave a loud perverse hum, settling in his lap with her hand balancing on his knee. Solas sucked harder, switching from one to the other before moving back up to bite and kiss her neck.

“Moro...you’re as sweet as I remember.” Moro hissed when his hand cupped her sex. Face burying into his neck and he plunged fingers deep as he could go, heel of his palm grinding against her clit.

“We shouldn’t do this…oh gods.” Moro gasps causing Solas’ hand to leave abruptly, a hard serious look in his eyes.

“I will stop if that is what you wish.” His eyes fall to the side, as his features soften. “I…I will not have you…not if you will only regret it.”

He rubbed soothing circles with his thumbs on her hips, a small chaste kiss pressed to lips before waiting for her answer. For a moment she was given the chance to think clearly, to decide whether this is what she truly wanted. She had no doubt this was only a diversion for the parting that was to come, they would still be enemies and she would still have to fight to keep Laisa safe.

But…

Moro chuckled darkly to herself, a shaky breath from her mouth.

“It’s not fair, Solas this isn’t fair.” She hid her face against his shoulder. “I’m an idiot.”

“No Vhenan.”

“I am…after everything I still love you.” Solas could feel the tears, his hand stroking her back as she spilled and broke.

“What do you want my heart?”

“I want to be happy, I want to stop fighting, I want my Solas back…not Fen’harel.” Solas pulled her close, her arms wrapping around him. “I want us to be a family…but you can’t…you won’t…”

Moro rubbed away her tears, taking a deep breath and composing herself. She could not sway him, but she could be selfish one last time.

“You said this was a place of comfort and succour, did you not? A place of respite before the slaves and servants of this temple would have to go back to the reality of their lives.” Solas smiled, pulling Moro closer. Their noses bumping against each other.

“Yes. Right now, here Moro, what do you want?”

“I want to forget what waits for us outside this place.”

“As do I.” Solas says before pressing his mouth firmly against her own.

They were even more gentle with each other when they kissed again, her arms still around his neck while his own held her close. Moro settled herself in the sheets again, hair sprawled beneath her as she slowly spread her legs for him. Her submission and invitation.

Solas couldn’t contain the blush that dusted his cheeks to the tip of his ears. Hands roamed the expanse of her ribs and stomach, stopping at her inner thighs to push her legs further apart. She wasn’t as ready for him as she was before, and he sought to fix that.

Moro gave an indulgent hum when he parted the lips of her with his fingers, tongue lapping slow and deliberate against her opening. A hand cupped the back of his head, steering his mouth towards her clit which he sucked at greedily, pulling a wanton moan from his love’s mouth.

Solas’ pace became more brutal as her hips rocked against him, moaning against her and wrapping his arms around her legs to keep her in place. Her hips bucking harder as her orgasm washed over her. Lips open in a silent moan, her eyes half-closed from the ride of her high.

“Your sound beautiful vhenan, you always have.”

Her eyes glazed over, mouth parted open. Taking the opportunity to stick index and middle finger and rub them against her tongue, the rest of his hand gripping onto her jaw. Solas groaned when she closed her lips around his fingers, sucking and licking the two digits.

“You will be the end of me…” he remarked as she bit the tip of his fingers, hooking her legs around his hips, rubbing her cunt along his cock.

Solas leaned back, enjoying the view as Moro continued to raise her hips up and down, coating him in her arousal. Needy whines and whimpers escaping her as her moves became more desperate, his own hips bucking every time she came to contact with his tip.

Moro threw her head back in frustration, kicking him with the heel of her foot.

“Fuck me for goodness sake Solas! How much more a hint do you need?”

Hands gripped her hips once again, as he sheathed himself inside her in one sharp thrust, a high pitched moan bursting from her as her back bowed at the much needed intrusion.

Solas kept hold of the bottom half of her body as he drove himself inside her again and again. The sound of the moans and lewd collision of their bodies filled the room, both of them lost in each other.

Solas continued to pump himself inside her. So long had it been, enraptured in the feeling of her walls surrounding him. Groaning at the sight of her head thrown back as she called his name, begging him to go faster, to go harder. He wanted more, to feel more, lowering her back down to trail his hands behind her knees, trying to bend her body further, to drive himself deeper.

“Fuck! Stop!” Moro was slapping his thigh, her cry more from pain than pleasure. Solas’ eyes went wide, immediately ceasing movement.

“I’m sorry!”

“Its fine, I’m just…not that flexible anymore…” Moro pulled him closer again, aligning him against her again and pulling him in for another kiss. “Let’s just keep it simple.” Solas couldn’t contain his small blush and chuckle, a tiny curve to Moro lips at realising just how much time had creeped on her. For a moment it felt like old times, like it was just Solas, her love. Their thoughts seemed to align as their humorous moment came to an end, a thumb tracing Solas cheek as they stared into each other’s eyes.

“None of that now…we can worry about that when we leave this room, remember? You don’t need to be Fen’harel in here.” Solas buried his face in her hair, driving back into her again and eliciting a surprised gasp from her. Hips rolling and voice coming out desperate and he left no distance between their bodies. Chest pressed hard against each other as he pumps harder into her.

“Tell me you love me.”

“Solas?”

“Please…tell me you love me.”

Moro wraps her hands around him as nails dig desperately into his back, her breath sharp as he takes her. Her mouth presses against his ear, telling him she loves him. Feels him hold her tighter.

“Again, please my love...I need to hear it, I need to know…”

“I love you, you are my heart Solas, I will always love you, you know that.” She gasped as he hit spot inside her that leaves her breathless. That spot that always made her legs quiver and her voice stutter. “I will never stop loving you.”

“I would give you the world my love,” He cups her face, forehead pressed against her own as his movements became more erratic, his peak drawing near. “I still want to…” he whispered, trying to blink away tears “Vhenan…I am broken by what we’ve become…” His confession came out a broken sob.

Moro makes him stop when he starts to break, removing him from inside her and holding him. His cries and sobs muffled as he clung to Moro, curled up against her. The weight of everything had finally hit, and it was too much for him to bear.

She kissed his temple, rubbing his back and holding him in silence. Pulling the covers over them both. His pain and silent cries accompanied only by her hushes and softly spoken words for comfort.


	18. Just a Moment Longer

_“Forgive me vhenan.”_

_“Don’t…”_

_“No, I am sorry…I…the years fighting with you, and the knowledge of our child. Laisa…”_

_“We all have our breaking points Solas.”_

_“….”_

_“You might be immortal Solas but that doesn’t make you invincible.”_

_“And you are neither of those things either.”_

_“Is that why you don’t want to let your plans go? Are you afraid of me dying? That If you leave the world as it is I will grow old while you’ll remain the same?”_

_“It is one of many reasons to restore the world of my people.”_

_“I think you’ve been trying and failing so much that at this point you do it simply out of habit.”_

_“Hm…you are probably right about that…”_

_“That’s it isn’t it? You have so much blood on your hands that you feel obligated to do this.”_

_“Moro…”_

_“I don’t see it in your eyes Solas, I don’t see a fire and determination for your goals. You’re so empty when you speak of restoring Elvhenan. This world has value and you’re too stubborn and blind to admit it.”_

_“……….”_

_“I feel for you my love, truly I do. I want nothing more than to help you restore what was. But not with fire and blood. Ramia and Laisa come first, and I would not do that to them.”_

_“I know.”_

_“I will fight you every step of the way.”_

_“I know that too.”_

_“And it will kill me to do that…”_

_“As it will me.”_

_“We should get moving.”_

_“Wait! Please stay…don’t go yet…”_

_“Solas…”_

_“Sathan ma’vhenan, just a bit longer…you will leave this temple. With Laisa…”_

_“….Do you truly mean that Solas? Promise me you’re speaking the truth.”_

_“I promise. Laisa will stay with you, I will not see you part. Just…lay with me a bit longer. Just a moment more…”_


	19. Nightmares

It was cold.

Like the cool winds in her homeland. Where if you weren’t smart enough to wrap up it would sneak up on you and make you lose feeling in your ears. Which was much more low on the fun side when you were an elf.

There were many thin tall trees, numerous but not as dense as the forests found further south or like the jungle landscapes in the north. Where she was supposed to be. No, the trees here but it very clear to see ahead of you but it was dense with fog, which wasn’t uncommon but on this particular night it was worse. And everything around her seemed taller than it should be, towering endlessly.

Ramia could only come to the conclusion the nightmares were starting up again. Which meant she was a child again.

That meant she was in Wycome, the wilderness to the north of the Free Marches more specifically. In an encampment, Clan Lavellan’s encampment.

The place was bustling, the craftsmen could be heard improving wares, herbalists chattered loud with their laughter and gossip as they turned herbs and flowers into medicine.

It was awful how acute her dreams made this unpleasant memory.

The sounds of leaves scattering along the breeze through the camp sent a shiver down her spine. The halla went quiet and nervous, elves in the clan packing and arming themselves as they suddenly scurried and spoke in hushed tones.

How quickly the atmosphere had decided to change.

They had known the humans were coming, but packing and setting off for travel would have taken a week to do. They didn’t have weeks. They had no more time at all when the sounds of humans cursing their names in the distance was the warning cry before aravels were set aflame.

The hunters and apprentices had already gone to fight. Mothers and children slung on halla and harts, it didn’t matter where they took them as long as they got away. Ramia was running, there was so much fire and the dead. Humans and clansmen both.

The smell of blood and smoke was so thick in the air, “knife-ears” and “blood mages” being screamed from all around. A hand was suddenly on her, tugging roughly at her hair and pulling her back, the all too familiar glint of an axe poised for her head.

Before it could meet her a blast of power sent the man reeling, crashing against a rock. Hard enough to kill. Lavellan’s first was there, bloody and beaten but not dead. She had never gotten to know his name but he had saved her life all those years ago.

It mattered little when several arrows pierced through him, sending him on his knees, a gasped “Run” on his lips. Meeting his own end. Ramia remembered staring at him, too afraid to move and too shocked to scream. But there was Keeper Deshanna in the distance calling to her, begging her to run.

When she rose to her feet and dashed towards her, her feet felt like stone. The path ahead seemed to stretch on forever, no matter how much she cried out for help Deshanna was further and further away. The shemlen behind getting closer and closer. The beat of her heart pumping faster and faster till it was all she could hear over the screams and cries.

**_Louder._ **

**_Louder._ **

**_Run faster._ **

**_Faster Ramia, run faster._ **

**_More fire. So much fire it seared her skin and clutched at her lungs, blood everywhere._ **

**_Keep running._ **

Voices spoke in her mind, becoming more vulgar and violent as they taunted her.

_Where is your mother? Mamae mamae, you cried. Mamae who always promised she would protect you. Who said nothing would keep you two apart, who left you even when you cried and pleaded for her not to go. Letters became her face and the words her voice, because Inquisitor was more important a title than Mother. She left you alone and now you will die._

 

* * *

 

Abelas slowly blinked awake, eyes lazily taking in his surroundings. Grumbling when he realised yes, he was defiantly still in a cave in the middle of a forest and not say…back at the Temple of Mythal. In Uthenera and NOT helping the Dread Wolf bring back Elvhenan.

Not that he didn’t want to restore his world. But, with a quick look to his right at the insufferable girl asleep, he had to question just how much he was willing to put up with to realise their goals. Unbeknownst to anyone but himself, doubt had plagued him in the last months. Finding that he was losing himself in this battle, losing sense of who he was meant to be as he helped Solas towards his goals.

Goals that should have been his own as well, but his mind remembered all the lives loved and lost in his long life. How they changed him, shaped him into the protector he strived to be. What in this quest seemed worthy of that title?

Ramia’s distressed noises interrupted his musings. Abelas glances in her direction became more questioning when he realised her whimpering and small muffled crying. Rising to his feet he goes to kneel beside her, the girl’s face and neck covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Her head tossed from side to side, mumbling words that meant nothing to him, but there was no question that she was being plagued by her dreams. He resolved to wake her when she began to shed tears and her whimpers turned to screams.

Ramia awoke with a strangled gasp, eyes shot wide and breathing heavy. Sitting upright almost immediately and taking in her surroundings realising where she was. Hands buried into her hair, she tried to steady her breathing and recompose herself.

“I forgot my runes in the fall…stupid, stupid, stupid….”

“Ramia…?”

“They veil’s too thin here…I need those runes to stop those nightmares…”

“You have trouble sleeping.” Abelas says as he studies her.

She didn’t seem to hear him, too lost in the anxiety that followed after such dreams. It probably didn’t help that he jostled her awake. Her mind still hadn’t settled, so he resigned to comfort her. A hand at her back offering his other one for her to hold onto. Ramia stared at the offered hand, hesitant but accepting it. The feel of something solid and living, something that didn’t threaten immediate harm calming her down more than she thought it would.

They stayed like that for some time in silence. Nightmares were an unpleasant experience, and Abelas would not hold back sympathy simply out spite for their differences. The adjustment his own sentinels endured after the veil was struck caused similar situations. It was a difficult journey for them to overcome. How often he found himself in this predicament were too many to count.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up Abelas.”

“You are sorry? Well, there is I would not have expected from you.”

Her laugh was shaky, her grip on his hand tightening.

“And laughter at my jests? Your condition is worse than I thought.”

Abelas didn’t understand why but he wanted to help, he felt compelled to. Especially when she looked at him with tired eyes her mirth never reaching them. She was an animated person, it did not suit her to be so sombre. Angry yes, but not sombre.

“I usually have runes placed that strengthen the veil back home, for some reason it makes sleeping easier. No nightmares. Maybe the weakened veil just gives me less control over my dreams and where I can direct them.”

“This is a constant issue?” Ramia nodded, eyes downcast as she ran a free hand through her hair.

“The dreams involves screams mostly…my clan screaming and dying. Fire everywhere…I always wake up just as humans snatch me away,” Ramia rubbed a pulse at her forehead, brows furrowing at the building pain. “I wish the dreams were just my imagination and not a memory.”

Ramia was only thirteen when Clan Lavellan was massacred in Wycome and Inquisition soldiers brought her to Skyhold. She could never truly escape those memories. With the Enchanter Vivienne’s help at the time, her contacts were able to procure sleeping runes. Elvhen artefacts that strengthened the veil. At the time it seemed a very good hunch on her part that it would reduce the frequency and potency of her nightmares.

Those runes helped immensely, the night’s chaotic events made her completely forget about them. Ramia would never go to sleep without them, she worried how she would do so now. Why bother going back to sleep when she knew what was waiting for her?

It had suddenly occurred to Ramia that she was still holding onto Abelas’ hand.

She snatched her hand away, avoiding eye contact. Mentally chastising herself for allowing such affectionate contact. Abelas didn’t seem to notice, or at least his face didn’t betray any acknowledgment.

“It is still early, you should get more sleep.”

“No.” she said, much more sternly that she had meant to. Clearing her throat and addressing Abelas fully she twisted her body to face him.

“I’ll be fine, a bit of food and I’ll be right as rain. Come on, we shouldn’t waste any more time anyway. Besides…” Ramia rose to her feet, clapping a hand at Abelas’ face before pulling up his hood. Ignoring the heavy weight in her stomach telling her not to push her luck with her next choice words.

“If I have to look at that face any longer who knows what might happen.”

“The artful nuances of attraction and seduction are lost to you aren’t they?”

Ramia had pulled the hood a little harshly, whatever expression was on his face was unknown to her but she didn’t miss the amused lilt to his voice as he remarked her bravado.

Ramia walked away with a skip in her step, a cheeky grin on her lips as she stood at the cave’s entrance. Her face betraying the jump in her gut when she wasn’t met with either ridicule or rejection from him.

“Here’s the thing Abelas, when Solas fails and the world stays just as it is.” Her smile never left as she turned her head to look back. “You’ll learn that you got to live in the moment.” She also never saw anything wrong with a little bit of honesty.

“You seem to forget whose side I am on.”

“Doesn’t me I can’t flirt with you!”

That little titbit of information should have made Abelas a no-no. A **big** no-no.

Ramia however, was good at making bad decisions. It wasn’t as if she would act on it, Ramia enjoyed complimenting people, although why it always had to be seen as an invitation bothered her at times. It seemed Abelas was no different in that regard.

But it felt good to be flirty and reckless.

She had faith in her mother to look out for Laisa, returning to the temple was a simple enough task. A moment to be herself again felt needed, and that meant being a bit of a tit at someone else’s expense. In this case, that meant flirting with a moody sentinel twice her height and god knows how much older than her at that.

It was good to know he could be a good sport about it, if the casualness with which he responded to was anything to go by.

“Solas and the Inquisitor found Laisa and are safe, I forgot to mention that.”

Ramia took in a large gulp of the night air, exhaling and letting it of her lungs slowly. A serene tenderness to her gaze.

“Good, one less thing to worry about.”

“Are you sure you do not wish to rest more?”

“Got a spell that will get rid of my nightmares?”

“Myself….? No. I’m sorry.”

“Didn’t think so.”

A hand wrapped around the bend of her arm, pulling her back before she could venture off into the wild. Abelas was staring down at her, face thoughtful. He seemed insistent they don’t walk the forest alone at night but it seemed a waste if the weaker of the two did not use this time to sleep and collect strength.

“Yes…?”

He was pulling her back inside the cave, taking her cloak to make a pillow of sorts for her.

“I will find you in the fade.” He tells her as he ignited the campfire to stronger flames, before gesturing for Ramia to lie on her back.

“A temporary solution, but you are in no state to wander the forest. You look like you will drop and collapse at any moment.”

A whine was her only argument to give, unwilling to accept that he was right. Ramia was tired, exhausted even. If she could help it she would defiantly sleep. It made sense that Abelas would be a dreamer, and it seemed the only option available right now. If it could help even a small fraction, perhaps it was worth the risk.

“Why are you being so insistent about this? Don’t want to carry me if I drop down asleep?”

“You are quite heavy…”

“I am not that heavy! We were running from skeletons as well, I might add! Of course it’d be difficult carrying me.”

Abelas’ expression stretched into something akin to worry, Ramia was more partial to accept it as him being displeased by her stubbornness.

“Please sleep.”

The humorous undertones of the atmosphere seemed to disappear, Ramia’s anxiety slowly rising back to the forefront of her mind.

“You promise you’ll find me? I’m trusting you, I shouldn’t...but I will.”

“You have my word Ramia, I promise you won’t suffer anymore nightmares tonight.”

“…Alright…ok…I can do this.”

“Everything will be fine.”


	20. Who would I serve?

When Ramia went back to sleep she didn’t expect Abelas to be good on his word, but he was. She was back in her Clan’s camp again, but there was no sense of urgency or foreboding that something bad would happen. It was just empty.

It was an empty Dalish camp.

She jumped when a hand placed itself at the centre of her back, sighing in relief that it was only Abelas. Turning her attention towards him she gave him the briefest of smiles.

“I’ll be honest Abelas, I didn’t actually think you would show up.”

“I gave my word did I not?” Abelas looked around, mouth curled at one side. Seemingly unimpressed. “Where are we?”

“Home…but it seems dreary…is it supposed to be like this?”

“To keep the nightmare at bay? Yes.”

Ramia turned up to look at him, she didn’t want to stay here if it was this desolate.

“Can you take me somewhere else?”

“You don’t wish to linger?”

“No.” Ramia held onto the bend of his arm, brows furrowing and eyes forlorn and she looked at the empty aravels, halla-less pens and abandoned campfire. Abelas for his part noticed her tendency to cling to him. He was silent however, as he saw many emotions pass her features.

The gloomy sky of the fade here only accentuating the melancholy inside her for her childhood home.

“There’s nothing left for me here.”

She sparked with an idea and looked up at Abelas with a soft smile, the hand on his arm tightening slightly.

“Can you take us anywhere Abelas? Even somewhere from your own memories?”

“Perhaps…” His voice dropped a pitch, hesitant and suspicious. Ramia rolled her eyes, nudging him with her hip insistently. “You can ask but my answer will most likely be no.”

“I just want to see the Temple of Mythal. In its prime though.”

“Ah, well I suppose that is not an entirely unreasonable request.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to take us somewhere that made you uncomfortable Abelas,” Ramia seemed to contemplate her next choice of words. “I’ve just heard a lot about it, and you were there so…” She was tugging on his arm now, she wouldn’t be denied he was sure. Not unless he was stern and harsh with her.

But she had genuine curiosity in her eyes, being far away from her family and Solas. The conflict between the Inquisitor and the Dread Wolf was coming to a head, and whatever the outcome after June’s temple, it would decide whether this world had a fighting chance against their impending end. There was only so much love and patience a woman could have for a man like Solas before she had to make her decision.

That seemed a distant thought for Ramia, the here and now preoccupied her and there was no responsibilities or sense of urgency leaving her a moronic mess as she had been.

It was a refreshing change, sorrow seem wrong on her, like it didn’t belong.

Abelas effortlessly changed their surroundings, the grey of the skies became an incredible blue. However, it was the golden and white bleached stone structure before them that took Ramia’s breath away.

It only made him nostalgic, woeful.

“If this is what your temples look like…I can’t even imagine what you do with your palaces.”

Abelas gave a short and quiet laugh despite himself, walking forward and leading her across the long bridge that led inside the temple.

“I’ll avoid showing you them then, lest such things become too much for you.” Ramia scoffed, albeit it came out more playful.

“Sounds like a good idea.”

Two sentinels stood at the gates entrance. Tall, even more so than Abelas. Their armour differed from his own as well. Their entire bodies were donned with golden plating, save for white cloth their hoods detailed, as well as their waists. The patterns along them clearly not for fashion alone as they glistened and sparkled with magic.

They stood still as statues, Abelas assured Ramia that this was simply a memory and that they could not be seen by them.

“Even so, they would not address sentinels or priests of the temple. They guard and protect, it is their sole duty.”

The hoods they wore made it hard to see their faces, giving their appearance that extra layer of intimidation. Ramia was all too eager to allow Abelas to draw her further inside the temple.

The sun’s rays and the magic echoing through the air gave the vestibule inside the temple an ethereal glow. It reminded Ramia of when she was in the crossroads, but this trumped the ancient ruins scattered there. The Temple of Mythal was grandiose, the elvhen priests but decorations all around, it took her breath away as she lingered.

“This place is beautiful Abelas…”

“Yes…it was.”

Ramia all at once she felt selfish and foolish for making Abelas bring her here. This was his home, a home that was now ruins, a shadow of what it was. For him to have to see it like this again must have been painful.

“Abelas I’m sorry, this must be hard for you. We can leave if you want,” He was leading her further into the temple before she could finish her sentence. “Abelas don’t…” She was rounding on him, standing in front of him and blocking his path.

“It is fine. I have come to terms with the current state of things…” Not entirely truthful, but the dull ache that lingered would never truly go away. He had learnt that long ago. “we have much more important problems to worry and be saddened by at this current moment in time.”

A hand was on her back again, guiding her through with insistence.

“I want to show you the temple, it is your history…and my past. It should not be forgotten.”

“My history?” It suddenly dawn on Ramia why her friendliness towards Abelas deserved scolding, why that small part of her brain scolded her actions.

“From what I heard elves like me aren’t considered people to you,” She was pushing away his hand, eyes glaring in a challenge at him. “Let alone any elves from my own time at all…why the sudden change in tune?”

Abelas led them to a garden, it was simple in design, flowerless. The meditating priests showed this was more a place of contemplation than relaxation. A large pool of water sat in the centre, with a giant white lotus flower floating on its surface.

Ramia grumbled quietly to herself when Abelas prolonged giving his answer, instead seating himself down on one of the many stone plaques scattered circularly around the garden. Many of the other priests sat on them as well, all facing towards the flower in the centre of the entire garden with their eyes closed, deep in concentration. Others passed by, either conversing amongst each other or carrying scrolls and books.

Abelas sat cross legged, gesturing with an open palm for Ramia to sit next to him.

“These past few years have been spent gathering followers and waking my brethren across your world as they lay deep in slumber. We have had many of your kind join us, Dalish as well as those born in the shemlen cities. I have had to recruit and oversee many of them and their training, work with them.”

His gaze was concentrated dead ahead before lowering, hands clenched softly on his knees.

“The experience has been…humbling.”

Abelas turned his gaze to Ramia, studying her and being reminded of someone who had been the recipient of his prejudice many years ago. Ramia’s visage was nothing like her mothers, but she held many telling aspects akin to the woman’s nature.

While bare-faced now, he remembers the Inquisitor’s markings for June. At the time he remembers seeing them as contradictory to who and how she was. The woman would have been much more suited under Andruil, Elgar’nan if given proper discipline.

“Under different circumstances I would offer the Inquisitor my apologies. She did not deserve my arrogance towards her those years prior.”

“This place must really be a place to contemplate if you’re talking like that.” Ramia joked, giggling at the small upturning of Abelas’ lip at her comment. “I feel like I’ve walked in here with some other elf.” Ramia smiled when she got more of a rise of him from that, scooting closer and reaching up to remove the hood from his head.

She raised herself up onto her knees to be face-to-face with him. Forgetting herself, she stared intently at him. Eyes trailing over the lines of vallaslin from his cheekbones and across his forehead. Abelas assumed she was barefaced her entire life as he allowed her curiosity. She faltered when she raised a hand to touch his face and stopped herself, mumbling an apology.

The ancient sentinel place gentle fingertips at the young mage’s elbow, allowing her to trace shy fingers across the green lines on his face. His heart leaps, a tiny unnoticeable thing when he feels soft fingertips trace his markings. He lets his gaze fall to the side to allow her to indulge curiosity without his scrutinising gaze.

“I would have gotten Mythal’s markings.” Ramia begins, after she lowers her hand and retreats away from him. “If fate had been kind to my clan. All the mage apprentices in my can would choose either Mythal or Elgar’nan.” Ramia hummed amusingly, tapping idly at her own face.

“I don’t think I would have suited Mythal.”

“Yes you would.”

Ramia cocked an eyebrow in question, genuinely confused by Abelas’ statement.

“Mythal is the all-mother, we were taught she was a protector, motherly and patient. I don’t feel like any of those things.” Her brows furrow, tilting her head slightly as she continued to prod him with questions. “what was she really then? Or at least how does it work among her followers? With the vallaslin.”

Abelas looked out onto the garden again, drawing Ramia’s attention to a man in simple white and gold robes.

“You see that man there? The man with vallaslin on his cheeks alone?” Abelas continued once Ramia confirmed she knew of who he spoke of. “He is a priest, which means he cannot fight.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Both.” Abelas explains. “He is a teacher, a seeker of enlightenment. He ensures those who would succumb to vengeance, instead of seeking the path towards justice are not abandoned and left to lose their way.” Ramia hums in understanding, looking from both the priest and Abelas as he spoke. “You can identify a priest by the simple design of Mythal’s markings on his face.” Abelas gestured towards himself and his own marks.

“Then you have sentinels, like I, we protect the temple and oversee those who wish to petition for Mythal’s favour.”

“So you think I would be a sentinel then? And have your markings.” Abelas chuckled, shaking his head and studying Ramia’s attitude and irritation plain across her face.

“You are too impatient and brash for either role. No…I think with enough training and discipline you would have been a knight.” Ramia raised her brows in curiosity. Did he mean the Emerald Knights? Or something older?

“A knight?”

“Dedicated warriors who carried out Mythal’s will across her lands and all of Elvhenan. You do not have the mental patience for priesthood, and your harsh view to see things only one way would leave you lacking as a sentinel. But as a knight? You would be incorruptible to Mythal’s foes, you would carry out her will and destroy the unjust who plagued the world without remorse or question. It helps that you have a strong sense of right and wrong.”

“So to conclude, yes, Mythal’s vallaslin would have been a good pick for you.”

 

Ramia’s eyes shone with admiration, the idea was something she defiantly would have seen herself proud to do. One more question lingered on her mind though.

“Would my markings be different?”

“Not entirely,” Abelas turned to give her his whole attention. “You would have the same as mine but…” He raised a hand to lift Ramia’s face by her chin, a thumb trailing slow from the centre of her cupid’s bow, across her lips, and down her chin. “It would end…here.”

Ramia’s chest fluttered again, wondering whether Abelas was aware of just how intimate he was being. His eyes seemed to linger where his thumb had been, it didn’t take long before the thought occurred to him as well. His hand quickly treated, and hum rumbling in his throat from disapproval.

“You’re being awful handsy aren’t you Abelas?”

Abelas scoffs.

“Not that you object to such treatment would you da’lath’in.” A shiver ghosted along her spine at both the elvhen that dripped effortless from his him. Her cheeks blushing the longer she stared at him, unawares that she was pulling herself ever closer towards him. Unable to keep silent as her thoughts tumbled from her mouth.

“You’re really handsome.”

“Yes, you have said so before.” His eyes shifted slightly at her moving closer towards him, a hand at her waist to hold her still. “Think before you act da’lath’in.”

“Da’lath’in…what does it mean?”

“It means you are careless with your feelings, sympathetic. You hide nothing.” She was biting at lip now, how far he wondered would she allow him to go. Ramia was blatant with her attraction to him. She should know better he thinks, they both should.

She was pretty, he would privately admit as much. But that was all it was, an acknowledgement of shallow fancies. Amusing as she was, and despite the animosity between them nearly gone, he would not encourage whatever this was.

“I am starting to feel under the impression you don’t spend much company with men do you?”

“Not really no, don’t get much time for…that sort of thing.”

“What exactly are you seeking then Ramia hm? She hummed in thought as she played with the end of his plaited hair, enjoying the quiet rumble his voice always left at the end of each sentence he spoke. “Seeking to sate some curiosity?”

“Maybe I like messing about with you.”

“I suppose I could act like a dithering little maiden, be all blushing and shy and keep my thoughts of you to myself.” Her voice was laced with sarcasm as she spoke in a mocking breathy tone, making Abelas grin at her sentiment. Ramia released his hair and stood onto her feet, her calm exterior betraying the fumbling of her hands.

“I’m just having a bit of fun while I can.” She turned away from his gaze, her shyness growing the longer they steered down this path of conversation. “I cannot help but voice my attraction to you. I’m not good at lying or withholding myself. I don’t want to.”

“Don’t get any ideas though!” A small cheeky smile lighted up her face. “I’m not so easily won over.”

“I will keep that in mind.” Abelas replies with a small hint of amusement, rising up on his own feet as well.

“Let us wake up, we have lingered for long enough.”

 


	21. You've Learnt Nothing

Arlathan Forest was much more pleasant in the afternoon. It was a nice tune in Ramia’s ears to hear the birds chirping high up in the trees, the water trickling through the rocks in the shallow river that led their way further through the forest.

She walked quite a few steps ahead of Abelas, humming away as she tapped her staff with every step.

“How long do you think it’ll take us to get there?”

“If we journey through the night, a day at most.”

Abelas cocked an eyebrow when Ramia paused suddenly, her hand clenching tightly to her staff. He sped into a jog to catch up with her, aware of her caution when she raised a hand to stop him.

“There are people ahead.”

Whoever they were they had caught sight of them, turning to approach them. Ramia was prepared for a fight but Abelas dispelled the flame in her hand, the sight of familiar elvhen armour setting him at ease. There were five of them in total, but both Ramia and Abelas knew two of them for certain.

“Drynne, Fen’an. Good to see you both alive.”

“And you as well,” Drynne gave a curt smile to the Sentinel, her eyes wide and eyebrows raised as she registered Ramia beside him. “The Dread Wolf has you playing nanny I see.”

“I can take quite good care of myself,” Ramia interrupted before Abelas could speak, chin held high in a challenge. “Thank you very much.”

Drynne grinned.

“You certainly know how to stay alive,” The general’s eyes narrowed in silent threat. “No matter how many times we try to put you down.” Ramia’s aura crackled with magic, the other agents taking defensive stances. Their magic ready at a moment’s notice.

“Enough,” Abelas commanded. “Ramia, do not be reckless.” His hand rested against her shoulder, coaxing her to calm down. Drynne raised a brow at her easy obedience towards Abelas, arms folding in front of her.

“Gotten the little cow to behave then have you?” The hand on her shoulder tightened, urging her not to be goaded by Drynne’s insult. Ramia gritted her teeth, she hated Drynne with a passion. She was reminded that she was one of many modern and mortal elves who were throwing away so many of their lives for a world they would not even see.

People like her could do so much under her mother’s vision, creating a better world with what they have instead of fruitlessly aspiring for something long since dead. No matter how beautiful and marvellous their history was, no matter how wonderful and grand the buildings and wonders Abelas showed her were.

It was nothing worth destroying millions of innocents for. A utopia couldn’t be built on the bones of the dead.

Ramia gave a tooth rotting smile, all teeth and squinting eyes. Fen’an shuffled agitated next to Drynne, he cleared his throat to get both the general and Abelas’ attention. Drynne clicked her teeth, motioning for Fen’an and the others to continue their course.

“Solas has given us our orders to head back to the south,” She narrowed her eyes on Ramia, the smile on the girl’s face never leaving, returning it with a dour loom of her own. “Of that I shall speak no more.”

“Be careful Abelas.” Fen’an warned. “The slavers we fought, did not all die, some escaped.”

Abelas gave Drynne and Fen’an a nod and farewell, exchanging elvhen with the other agents before pulling Ramia away with a harsh grip on her arm. Her protest at the sudden harsh treatment were ignored, but once Drynne and the others were out of sight his grip loosened. And the rest of their journey was continued in silence.

 

* * *

 

The trek through Arlathan forest became much heavier in tension between Abelas and Ramia. The sounds of the scattering wildlife and frogs croaking echoing through the underbrush. Their feet slowly switch from sloshing through mud to crunching against fallen leaves and branches as they delved further from the river and deeper into the forest.

The more they travelled the denser the forest became, the sun no longer able to pierce through the towering trees above them. This made it seem darker than it actually was, if Ramia wasn’t so troubled by her thoughts she would have probably felt creeped out by their surroundings.

“Would you like to rest for a moment?”

“Fine.”

Abelas exhaled, frustrated and wondering what had upset her now. He didn’t think their encounter with Drynne would bother her this greatly. Not unless it had set off some other problem she had. Ramia sat on a fallen tree log, legs closed firmly together as her hands held a wolf jaw bone, thumb rubbing against its surface. Her eyes glazed with anger held at bay, he would have to be cautious with his choice of words.

“Do you want a fire?”

“My cloak is fine.”

Abelas rolled his eyes at her curt responses. Suddenly he started feeling confused. Just over a day ago he would be thanking the gods that Ramia would be so un-talkative and withdrawn. Then again, over a day ago they couldn’t stop bickering in each other’s company.

He had actually started to enjoy Ramia’s company, and now he has unknowingly angered her. Abelas was starting to regret ever agreeing to be so heavily involved in Solas’ plans all those years ago. It brought him one trouble after another.

“What’s in June’s temple Abelas?”

“Hm?”

“What is in June’s temple? Oh wait! You can’t tell me can you?”

“I’m sure there a point you are getting to yes?”

Ramia stared at her nails unimpressed, tapping the jaw-bone against her thigh as she collected her thoughts.

“Just thinking…bumping into Drynne reminded me of a few things,” Her attention was on Abelas, a brittle smile planted firmly on her face. “I bet whatever’s deep in that temple will be very helpful, maybe enough to kill me and my mother to ensure we don’t get our hands on it ourselves.”

Ah, and there it was.

“I see you have remembered yourself.”

“Yeah…you’re pretty much his right-hand man right? Everyone seems to answer to you if not him. Bet he’s got you doing lots of his dirty work.”

She stared off to the side. Ramia was angry, but not at Abelas and not at herself. After getting passed barriers Abelas was actually, pleasant she had found. The dream in the fade brought out a better side to him, a side she could under different circumstances called a friend or a teacher.

But these weren’t different circumstances. He was the enemy, the last five years he spent helping Solas see the end of her and everyone she held dear. This temporary alliance made it all too easy to forget that.

Seeing Drynne, Fen’an and those other agents. Seeing Abelas speak with them in elvhen and treat them as kin just had her questioning the last day. Was his improving comradery with her just a ruse? A way to benefit himself and Solas in their endeavour?

It was dishonest. Ramia _detested_ dishonesty. She **loathed** it.

“I bet cosying up to your enemy’s daughter would really smooth out that whole process too.”

“Ah, you think I am manipulating you.”

“Shouldn’t I?”

“If I remember correctly, it was you who had been making advances Ramia.” That hurt her a little, and a small part of her felt like it only emphasised her insecurities and suspicious on the matter. She blushed, embarrassed at his words.

“If my thoughts and feelings were unwelcome you should have said so.”

“They were not unwelcome.”

“Don’t talking in circles Abelas…you can’t mock me and encourage me.” Abelas moved over to sit next to her, removing his hood and rubbing a hand through his hair and ending at the back of his neck. This whole conversation felt tedious to him.

“I say it is nonsense because we both know how this will end if we indulged in whatever shape or form.” Abelas spoke matter-of-factly, Ramia’s mind lingered on the world indulge.

“So you…?”

“Yes.”

“Oh…oh…” Ramia wasn’t expecting the attraction to be mutual. Her playful flirting had been just that, playful. Ramia flirted all the time, never expecting anyone to reciprocate. Mostly due to her own lack of interest in the other person.

Of all people it had to be Abelas that she would actually accept an invitation from.

Abelas for his part saw no need to lie or keep what he thought of her hidden. That surprised him as well more than anything about her. There was a freedom and comfort he found the longer he spent in her company, that regardless of what he thought of her he could be forthright with it. No lingering consequences or irrational actions on her part.

“You said back in the fade that working with people like me humbled you…what did you mean by that?”

“There is value here. In this world, limited as it is.”

“Then why are you helping him?”

Abelas he wished they could avoid this conversation, twisting to look her fully in the eye. Ramia clearly somehow got it in her head that he might be different to Solas, perhaps didn’t see him as determined in restoring Elvhenan as he was.

The Elvhen Empire had been gone for so long, and the mortal elves left behind did not deserve the fate awaiting them. But their characters were not the only thing to enlighten him. Their stories and their suffering had pulled at a part of him he felt was long gone. The part of him that long to see justice brought to those mistreated, that fire inside that made him proud to bear the blood writing still etched across his face.

There was value in what was though, too much to abandoned to the fringes of time. That was Ramia’s shortcomings. A brave, striking, but naïve and blind girl who could not see the greater goal. Could not see the value of one piece in a grand design, that one piece being the sundering of the veil.

“There is no answer I can give that will placate you da’lath’in.”

“I don’t want answers! I want action, you and Solas both act remorseful yet refuse to seek more peaceful solutions.”

“It is not that simple.”

“A coward’s words because he is too selfish and arrogant to see differently!” Ramia’s words echo through the forest, her anger carrying in the wind and tears teased from her eyes. They both went quiet, Ramia’s shuddered breathing filling the silence. Her eyes downcast.

“We’ve tried so hard…my mother gave up everything to improve the lives of elves everywhere with what power she could. We could do so much more with your help.” She whispered, just loud enough for him to hear, cheeks wet and hands clenched so hard at her sides.

“You would spit on their memories and erase everything they accomplished for a dead corrupt Empire! You were never humbled Abelas! You’ve learnt nothing!”

“Ramia.”

“No!” She pulled her clock closer to herself, face in a grimace and backing away when Abelas rose from the log. “ _Go ahead and kill us all for your dead empire, I hope it brings you nothing but misery…” A hand Abelas tried to reach out to her fell limply at his side, making no move to approach her, taken aback by her words._

Ramia’s anger was raw and hot, it hurt to look at him so she did what she did best.

She ran away.

Abelas’ voice calling out to her was a distant blur far away. She kept running until it burnt cold in her throat, until she became numb to the branches that snapped against her sprint.

She stopped once it started to rain violently, looking up towards the sky in a silent prayer of thanks. She threw her head back and allowed the rain to pour heavy over her to cool her mind, ignoring the heavy lull as her hair dampened. The water clashing against rock and grass a balm to her ears and her mind.

 

* * *

 

Abelas cursed when it started to rain, it made finding Ramia all that much more difficult. The water eroding away any traces of her footsteps, making him pray she ran in a single direction and not haphazardly. His worry only worsened when he clutched the staff in his hand, knowing she was defenceless.

His head whipped round at the sound of a scream bursting through the forest, not an ounce of doubt in his mind who that scream belonged to. Hoping by the time he reached her that it wouldn’t be too late.


	22. Living in The Moment

“Oh my god! Fuck off!” Ramia screeched as she climbed higher into the tree. “Fucking bear!”

Said bear continue to roar and growl at her, standing on its hind legs and swatting at her with a clawed paw. Lucky for Ramia, fear of being eaten alive by wild animals caused her to be an exceptional climber.

She started to sob dramatically as she leaned against the trunk of the tree, clothes soaked and her hair even more so. She felt a complete utter mess.

“Why is this happening to me? Oh please go away…oh god I’m gonna die, I don’t wanna die…” She fussed, eyes closed and hands clinging desperate to the tree. She gave another frightful scream when the bear roared at her again.

The rain had finally let up, short-lived as it was. The bear pausing his torment to shake his wet coat of fur before jumping up again into the tree.

“Go eat some fucking berries or something!” She seethed through her teeth, breaking pieces of branch to throw down at the beast. Ramia’s heart jumps, and a squeak escapes her when an arrow finds itself lodged into the creature, two more shots fired ensuring its death.

A hand is braced against her chest, eyes wide and apprehensive to discover who killed the beast. It couldn’t have been Abelas, he did not wield a bow. Or at least he did not carry one on his person. She was cursing her own carelessness now for abandoning her staff in the height of her rage, the solid and strong warped wood would have brought her much comfort in this predicament.

Down below a human man appeared, placing his foot against the bear’s head to pull out one of the arrows. Another two showed up and joined him, Ramia stood as still as possible and clamped a hand over her mouth to quiet her breathing.

“Avanna little rabbit! Come down darling! I’d hate to bring back damaged goods.”

Slavers.

Ramia gave them all icy stares, unwavering even when the archer in the group sent an arrow just short of her shoulder.

“Not even a flinch? Come rabbit, we both know you are a mage…and I do not see a staff. Come down.” The archer scratched at his stubble, his hawk-like gaze noticing the slight shivers the elf above him let slip.

“If you’re good and come down, maybe we will give you something warm to eat and drink huh?”

Ramia spat at the slaver, lips curled in a snarl and lightening dancing in her hands. The slaver wiped his cheek, gesturing for one of men to hand him a purple vile of liquid before he made his way up the tree after her.

 

* * *

 

By the time the slavers took Ramia back to the camp they had set up it was night. A fire crackled and blazed unnecessarily high in the middle of the encampment. There were four of them in total, the majority of them having been wiped out by Drynne and the other agents.

Bear meat permeated the air, making Ramia feel nauseous. The crude manner by which most them noisily ate at their meal didn’t help either. She laid on her side, hands clasped behind her. Tied up with enchanted cuffs that ensured she would not be getting out of them anytime soon.

Even so, the magebane the archer had shoved down her throat hours ago was still coursed strongly threw her.

Ramia had never felt magebane like this before. Her entire body felt congested and…wrong. Her bones felt like anchors that dragged her down, and the urge to throw up always seemed a threat but would never reach an apex. Leaving a constant state of feeling like utter shit.

 _Why can’t you go a moment without screwing things up Ramia?_ She asked herself. Now she had to accept that without Abelas finding her she was being shipped off to Tevinter. That set off even more grief.

Abelas wouldn’t come, not after their last exchange, he could only risk his neck so many times for someone like her.

The sound of the archer’s feet crunching against the grainy soil distracted her from her thoughts. Ramia wriggled away from him, watching his every move.

“You know you elves are becoming much harder to make a living off. Lots of you gone scarce these last few years.”

“Magisters will pay lots o’money for mage slave.”

“That they will my poorly spoken friend.”

The archer lifted Ramia into a sitting position, offering her a sip from his sack of water. She turned her head away, shoving him away with her shoulder and muttering in elvhen. Granted it was nothing offensive.

But he didn’t know that.

Riled by her consistent disobedience he shoved her back down by her hair.

“Behave yourself, your nose is busted enough, no need to make it broken now do I?” He chuckled. As much as Ramia wanted to run her mouth, a broken nose wasn’t something she wanted to add to her list of problems at that moment.

Thankfully he left it at that and went back to his spot by the fire, Ramia attempted to use what strength she could to push herself upright. Her spot in the camp was far enough that she was able to keep attention away from herself. She gave it a few more tries until finally it worked and she was sitting up.

But not on her own.

“Leave it to you to get caught by slavers.”

Ramia’s eyes widened in surprise, twisted her head to come face to face with Abelas. She couldn’t hold back her relief to see him, twisting her body and rising up on her knees to firmly press her lips against his cheek.

“Abelas!” Ramia whispered, voice muffled as she rested her head against his chest. “You came back for me…” Despite their earlier spat Ramia was elated to see him, being so close to giving up made her feel foolish now. Warm comfort filling her at a familiar hand held against her head. Suddenly the gravity of how close she was to ending up a slave became much more real. Her hiccups and sniffling tears muffled against the sentinel’s chest.

“I was passing through.” Abelas jested, making her laugh softly again him. She couldn’t be happier to see him though in spite of everything.

 “I have your staff.”

“It’s no use, they gave me magebane. I can’t use my mana”

“I see…stay here.”

“Not much choice on that front.”

Their conversation was cut short when an arrow was struck through his shoulder.

“Abelas!” Ramia gasped, pushing herself between him and the archer who threatened to send another shot. Before they could be surrounded Abelas ignored the pain in his shoulder to remove the cuffs keeping Ramia bound.

“Ah! You did not mention you had a friend!”

Abelas ignored the slaver, instead he scanned the area around them, many large roots and vines scattered across the camp. With his uninjured arm, he used the flat palm on his hand to press into the earth beneath him.

He ignored everything around him till his mind was calm and still, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. The archer and the lone mage of their group approached when the air slowly released from his lungs, their weapons held high to kill him.

“AGH!!”

All but Abelas turned to the screams, the roots having taken life as they coiled and gripped at the other slavers. Trees coming to life as sylvans rose to do the sentinels bidding.

The forest creatures made quick work of the slavers and kept the archer busy, leaving Abelas and the mage. Screams and chaos roared around them, but neither took their eyes off each other. Waiting for an opening to take advantage of.

Blood trickled down Abelas’ arm, but he wouldn’t be distracted. Veilfire unfurling in the palm of his hand. The mage summoned shards of ice, sending them forth towards Abelas. Too many for him to physically dodge.

He unleashed the veilfire to surround him, destroying the shards until all that remained was a floating steam before him, quirking an eyebrow and goading the mage into a fury.

The mage slammed his staff into the ground, expensing his energy to generate a burst of lightening to throw at Abelas. When the mage raises his head Abelas is right in front of him tutting at his sloppy technique, his hand clenched in a fist and an invisible force of magic used to give his punch more power behind it that sends the mage slaver flying across the field and crashing into the archer.

Both slavers go tumbling down a small edge of a cliff, the sound of splashing water and shouts of pain coming from below.

“Abelas…”

The sentinel let out a shuddering breath he had been holding back, walking cautiously to the cliff’s edge. Ramia watched from the ground, noticing the slight tremor to his stride. To summon the very nature around to aid you was a tricky task with the veil still strong. Even more so in his weakened state, as more blood poured form the arrow pierced in his shoulder.

“Abelas don’t!” Something urgent in her pestered at the back of her mind, the further Abelas walked towards the cliffs edge the stronger it felt.

“Da’lath’in, be at ease…I will not chance their survival.”

The sound of a thundering blast burst through the air, the mage sent the earth below Abelas’ feet crumbling away. The sentinel fell, the archer had died in the fall but the mage was still standing. Barely.

Another strike was sent at him, knocking Abelas to the ground and knocking the wind out of him.

Back at the encampment Ramia pulled herself to her feet with her staff, ignoring the numb sensation in her legs that screamed at her with every step as she raced to the cliff-side. Her heart pounded at the sight below her as the mage slowly approach to attack Abelas once more.

Abelas concentrated to summon his mana, but his hands remained empty. All he felt was nausea, and emptiness. He gazed at his hands in confusion, growling as he commanded himself to make fire, to make anything.

“Glad to see he loaded those arrows with magebane, feels terrible doesn’t it?” He sent another burst of magic at Abelas knocking him across the shallow river. “All this for a fucking knife-eared bitch. Should’ve stayed in the Marches.”

The slaver swept hair from his face, ready to deal the finishing blow. The last Abelas saw of him was him falling to the ground and groaning in pain with a large crack. Staring up to see Ramia, dishevelled and out of breath having slammed her staff against the side of the mage’s head.

Using her staff, she stopped herself from falling to the ground, ignoring the vomit that threatened with the mage bane still lingering in her system. The mage continued to groan in delirium, before he could rise Ramia sat astride him, grabbing the largest rock she could carry.

The slaver’s life ended at the sound of a smashed skull.

Ramia was breathless as she walked to Abelas’ side, guilt and fear clear on her face as she watched him breath heavily and clutch at his arrow punctured shoulder.

“Abelas I’m so sorry…”

“Get us back to their camp.” She gave a vigorous nod, both of them finding their way back on shaky legs.

Whatever the sylvans did with the bodies of the other slavers they were gone now, as were the sylvan themselves. Ramia pulled off Abelas’s ruined hooded cloak, laying him down on the nearest bedroll.

The arrow wasn’t too far deep, but enough to be painful and coated in a purple liquid.

“He laced his arrows with magebane…”

“Yes…fenehidis, it might as well be poison.” Abelas groused, the foreign sensation disgusting and horrid to him. To have the magic in you sucked dry and replaced by exhaustion and nausea.

“Heh…yeah, it’s not the most pleasant feeling…” Ramia searched the camp, praising luck that she found a dagger. She rushed back to Abelas’ side.

“Ruining what’s left of my armour won’t be necessary.” Abelas proclaimed as he held up a hand, unclasping an inconspicuous part of his it to give her better space to deal with the lodged arrow.

“Abelas…”

“If you’re going to apologise…”

“No, it’s not that.” The arrow had managed not to strike bone, Ramia regarded with relief. “I’ll have to, push it further in…like to the other side…”

Abelas stared off into the sky, wishing at least one of them still had some mana. Why was getting injured in this world so tedious he asked himself.

He groaned in pain as he sat himself up right, halting Ramia’s movements and settling for doing it himself. He gave a rasped yelp as he pushed it further in, greedily accepting the potion Ramia was pushing against his lips. It would at least help whatever further damage he was causing as she broke off the arrow head and removed the rest of the offending weapon.

Aside from the potion, she had procured a handful of elfroot, shoving, roots and all of the herb into her mouth and chewing. While she did that she cleaned the wound, using the now pasty elfroot and rubbing in onto his wound front and back before they could become infected.

Abelas only stared, grossed out and confused at what she was doing.

“When your mother’s not a mage, she makes sure you don’t rely on magic to fix all your problems.”

“Well let’s hope saliva and weeds does something other than make my nausea worse.”

Ramia ignored his jibe, using what remained undestroyed and clean from his robes as a makeshift bandage.

“Do you want to lie down?”

“No it doesn’t feel good.” Ramia helped Abelas sit properly against a large tree, his breathing began to even out and the bleeding had stopped. She looked down in guilt, a hand curled in a fist by his abdomen.

“This is my fault…”

“Ramia…” A hand cupped against her cheek, fingertips teasing into her hair as Abelas looked her straight in her eyes. Her eyes glossy and large, her own smaller hand curling against his.

“This is _most certainly_ your fault.” Ramia slapped his hand away, punching weakly at his leg as Abelas stared at her with a tired grin.

“You’re a terrible person, you know that?”

Ramia tried to walk away but was pulled back by the hand. After several attempts to get away she complied, settling in his lap. Surprised he would allow it, but he seemed too tired, insistent on calming her and bringing her comfort. Despite his smile Ramia couldn’t return it, her mind elsewhere as she placed a hand gently against the wrapping across his shoulder.

“You’re a terrible person who shouldn’t have come looking for me…”

“And why is that?”

“Because I’m supposed to hate you and rescuing me doesn’t help that.”

“Oh?”

Ramia buried her face in his chest.

“You’re not supposed to like me either, stop pretending to.” Abelas cocked his head to the side, the smile gone from his face. A hand ran up her hip to travel up her back.

“I jumped down catacombs, ruined my good armour and have suffered the monstrosity you call magebane.” Abelas nudged his leg to get Ramia to look up at him. His face softening at the sight of her crying. “I worry what you expect someone to do to show they _don’t_ hate you.”

Ramia bit her lip and impulsive as usual, Ramia locked her lips with his. It was a shy kiss, with so much pent up beneath its surface. Abelas did not return the kiss, but his hand snaked behind her neck teasing through the curly strands of her roots. With his hand firmly in place she couldn’t move far when she broke for air, their nose and lips inches apart as they searched each other’s eyes for an answer.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No…sadly you shouldn’t…”

Ramia’s eyes widened at his words, squeaking softly in surprise when he gently takes her lips in how own.

Abelas didn’t know where this spark of curiosity came from, maybe he saw her as a nice distraction from the thoughts and dilemmas that plagued his mind as of late. Ramia for her own part seemed too curious for her own good, and eager to sate it.

So Abelas relents, allows her to make experimental pecks to his lips, returning them with as much gentleness as he can muster.

“We don’t have to sleep yet do we?” Ramia suggested as she retrieved her cloak to drape over them as she nestled herself against him, the effects of the magebane no longer making it hard for him to lie back. Seeking him for warmth against the cold night air.

“No, I am not much for talk as of right now, but I would like to listen, if that is alright.”

“I don’t regret kissing you. I mean, I still think you’re fighting for the wrong side, and that you’re a dick. But…it would be nice…to forget it all. Even if it was just for a bit.”

Ramia avoids his gaze as she buries her face against his neck. Her words shy and mumbled.

“I’ve never done anything like that before…so I guess I thought you would do.”

Abelas laughed. Mostly because he secretly could tell it was only a half truth, a ruse to something they probably deep down knew they had in common. Burdened by the price of duty, wanting a moment to choose and indulge in something just for them, that was about what _they_ wanted.

“I guess I could have picked someone who wasn’t…working for Solas…”

Abelas tilts her chin up to look at him.

“Did you not say you have to _live in the moment_ in this world?”

“Mhm…”

“I am not particularly fond of such ways of thinking, but I suppose tonight we could make an exception.”


	23. This isn't Over

“Solas? Solas.”

Solas gave a mild jump of surprise, the firmness with which Moro called his name pulling him from his internal musing. He lingered longer than usual on one of the books within the temple’s grand library. Many of them worn from decay and neglect, but many secluded treasures remained intact.

He would have to send agents back here when his task was done. Surely something of value could be salvaged.

“Forgive me, my mind was elsewhere.”

He skimmed and drummed his fingers upon several shelved books. Eyes narrowing upon a particular golden tome, his voice took on a deeper resonance, the air becoming denser and quieter when he raised a hand for Moro’s silence.

“ _To the Hearthkeeper Sylaise, whose fire cannot be quenched_ _”_

The incantation spoken in the ancient tongue caused the bookshelf before them to become transparent. Solas smiled, successfully infiltrating what would be June’s sanctuary, closed off and kept secret even from the highest ranks of the temple. This is where he would find what he was seeking.

He turned to find Moro taking a cautious step back, the still sleeping child in her arms being held closer and tighter against her.

“Do not be afraid Vhenan.” Solas extends a hand out, urging her to come with him. Moro re-adjusts the child in her hold, her steps small as she eyes with suspicion at the faded bookcase in front of them.

“What was that you said just now?”

“A password of sorts, I was unsure whether it would work or not. June was always enamoured by Sylaise.”

“They were husband and wife weren’t they? Or is that another little anecdote we got wrong?” Solas hummed in thought, his face lighting up with slight amusement that bordered on apathy.

“A union was…encouraged. Sylaise was a stubborn woman, no matter how many gifts of June’s gifts he devoted his time to. The woman always remained hard to please.”

Moro scoffed, her mind slowly coming to terms with their surroundings. Solas studied the small anxiety below the surface on Moro’s face. It occurred to him she had been this way since they entered the temple.

“The temple makes you uncomfortable doesn’t it?”

“It does,” Moro wouldn’t look at him as she answered his question. “It was like this at Dirthamin’s temple as well. If you remember…” Solas’ expression softened, reaching out to touch but thinking better of it when her eyes immediately fell on his hand.

They had both agreed to leave their affections behind, last night’s yielding to their passions still fresh in their minds, but neither willing to speak of it.

When the silence became too much Moro cleared her throat, taking in the elvhen designs of the corridor they walked through.

“Forests and cities I can handle. But these temples…the magic left behind in them, even not being a mage it feels…strange.”

“Do not worry, we are almost there.”

“What about Ramia? I am sure Abelas is as suitable bodyguard as someone like him could be but…”

“He is under strict command to protect her. I’m sure the two of them have behaved themselves while gone.”

Solas urged Moro to follow, instinctually rested a hand upon her lower back as they delved further in the depths.

 

* * *

 

“Abelas stop!”

The sun had risen and Ramia was determined to get a head start in heading back towards the temple. Abelas on the other hand seemed quite content to continue using Ramia as a source of heat and comfort. His grip around Ramia was loose enough not to be uncomfortable for her but tight enough that she couldn’t get away.

If Abelas was a poor reader for people he would have taken the look she gave him for irritation, but he could see the daze and apprehension in her eyes. He felt slightly concerned for himself, that he could understand her so well. More so concerned that he felt no compulsion to leave the bedroll or her side.

“I do not look forward to reaching the temple.”

“You said this was temporary…”

 “You are unfamiliar with such things,” Ramia cast her eyes to the side at being sussed out, her gaze brought back when his hand travelled across her lower back to pull her close. “I would not take what I have not earned or what neither of us is comfortable doing.”

“That’s not for you to decide…”

“It is when you are not doing what’s in your best interest.” He argued back, calmly. He stared at her for some time. From her forehead down to her nose tracing a finger over the pronounced bump along her bridge. He smiled, even if it lacked any hint of cheer.

“I have a habit of becoming fond women I can’t have.”

“You like me.” Ramia declared with triumph, her mind so easily distracted as she gently jabbed accusatory fingers at the sentinel.

“Must you act so juvenile?”

“It’s alright Abelas, I like me too,” Ramia sat up, feeling smug and self-satisfied. Tracing a finger over the bandaged wound on his shoulder. “It’s a shame you’re fighting for the wrong side.”

“I could say the same of you.”

“So you still think destroying the veil is the answer?” Abelas rested his head against the hard ground, sighing long and deep.

“Is it not that simple Ramia.”

“Can’t it be? He’s waited this long to do it, we’ve always been open to finding a better way, why can’t he listen? Why can’t you make him listen?”

Abelas sat up sharply, his hands grasped firmly at her shoulders, he was angry, he wanted scream at her till her naivety was wiped clean. Till her idealism was replaced with cold understanding.

Till she would be just like him.

Her eyes were wide, her clothes dishevelled with her shoulders bared making her look more vulnerable and timid than Abelas liked. She was waiting for it, for him to call her a child and say she could not understand.

It would easier that way, for him.

As mind-boggling as he found it he did enjoy her company, enjoyed her. It unsettled him that the thought of her being burned in the chaos to come brought him pain. He was reminded of other soldiers and agents in Solas’ army, their faces running through his mind as well and his pain deepened. The idea of any of them dying sitting uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach.

The maddening pace of this world still took him for a loop. He did not want her to die, Abelas didn’t truly want any of them to die. The thought of losing more innocents due to his inaction would be too much for him, and he could see in her eyes that she felt his confliction.

“Abelas?” There was a hint of a command to her call. His grip loosened on her, pulling the fabric lower and exposing her further to him. She neither shied away nor encouraged him, her steel gaze demanding an answer as his own melancholic ones imprinted every inch of her to memory.

“I do not wish to see anyone perish...”

“Good, what will you do to make sure that doesn’t happen then?” Abelas pinched at the bridge of his nose, stewing in his thoughts at her question. Ramia was having none of it, pulling his face back to look at her, fighting off the urge to wipe off the conflict in his eyes.

“You know we are not soulless Abelas, you know you cannot wipe us out like we are nothing and see it as right.”

“I know that Ramia.”

“Then make him see reason!”

“Do you even understand what you are asking of me? I cannot convince the Dread Wolf to do anything.” He all but yelled. “You know this well enough.”

Ramia’s hands fell to her sides. Giving into the deep displeasure of defeat before pulling her clothes tightly around herself. The signs of morning in the air as the chill left goose bumps upon her flesh. It was foolish of her to think she could convince him of doing anything in regards to defecting.

“So this is it then?”

“He has instructed me to escort both you and your mother back to your fortress once all this is over, after that…I do not know.”

“And my sister?”

Abelas’ only answer was silence.

 

* * *

 

Despite how he felt about June as an Evanuris, the legacy of the man he was before remained deep in his sanctuary. Away from prying eyes and ears, the secret stowed away treasures he invented sat and gathered dust around Solas and Moro. It did not come as a surprise to him that they still remained even after the construction of the veil.

Masterpieces could always stand the rigors of time and destruction.

What Solas loved most about these pieces were their puzzle-like natures. They were not made to dazzle and gloat, not like the junk he so often referred to when speaking of June’s later work. These puzzles and wonders were private. Little treasures he made for himself and himself alone to test his imagination and skill.

Once upon a time, Solas was inspired and awed by the man.

He would admit it felt wrong to gaze upon such machinations, but what he wanted lied at the heart of his sanctuary, that itself did not belong in this temple any longer.

It also amused him to see Moro be distracted by a particular bauble. She was never an academic type, opting more for wisdom that only a harsh life could bring. He was reminded of happier times in Skyhold, were he would delve deep into discussions of the fade and memories disguised as revelations through its magical maze. Even when she never understood she would smile and listen.

Instead now she gazed in curiosity laced with caution and apprehension. And it hurt him that the few years in her company he spent tearing down her walls to let himself in were replaced with higher ones. And there was no one to blame but himself.

The child in her arms brought him even more shame. He should have been there, he should have been a father to Laisa and Ramia both. Fate had given him what he had never dared to hope for, and he could only feel that he tainted it by his own self-destructive ambitions.

Every fibre in his being screamed for rectification of his past mistakes, restoring his world was the only way to do so.

If he could have his world and his family both? That would be something he would not pass up, he would be lying if he had not spared resources to search out such a feat.

“You’re spacing out again.”

Solas jumped again at her dispelling of his thoughts, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mirth when Laisa began to stir. The child blinking to adjust to the low lighting of the room, her lips smacking and curling at their dryness as she slowly awoke from her long slumber.

The child gave a low grumble at the sight of her father, arm stretching out for him. Solas was more than happy to reach out for his daughter and hold her in his arms.

“Welcome back _da’len, how do you feel?”_

_Laisa whined, wriggling to place herself against his side where his wolf pelt hung. Solas tutted softly, more to himself for assuming she would be comfortable against his armour._

“She looks like you, a lot.”

“I suppose I should apologise for that,” Solas jested. His eyes never leaving Laisa as she nuzzled against his pelt, her own eyes intently watching the exchange between her parents. “She has been quite a handful to speak with, much more reflective of her mother I would say, no?”

Moro chuckled at that, he had missed her laughter.

“Where are we?” Laisa asked, her voice quiet and meek at the unfamiliar surroundings. Solas brushed away stray curls of hair to kiss her atop her head.

“You’re safe, don’t worry.” Moro soothed, giving her foot a teasing but gentle squeeze. Laisa giggled as her mother continued to tease and tickle her foot, soon forgetting her unease. Solas watched the exchange with dampened fondness.

Moro caught his stare and mirrored his own expression.

“You and babae stopped fighting?” Laisa asked, her eyes hopeful as she looked between the two elves.

“Yes Laisa, your father also agreed that you can stay with me.” Laisa shot up, looking to her father for confirmation. Solas gave a small nod, his face betrayed nothing as he patted her leg in comfort. Laisa gave his cheek a kiss, snuggling closer against him. Solas pulled her closer, lips pressed gently to the top her head again as he fought back tears.

“I’m not doing this to hurt you Solas.” Moro confessed in hushed tones, her hand holding gently against his arm.  Solas’ eyes remained shut.

“I know; I cannot rip a child from its mother…even if they are my own.” With renewed vigour he continued their course, until they came upon a large set of doors, decorated in the same style of those mosaics they had found at the Temple of Mythal. This one was in June’s image, anvil at the base in reflective golden plating.

When Solas placed a hand against it the anvil was shown to be a giant rune that kept the door held shut. He furrowed his brow, channelling more mana into the door.

“It’s locked.” Laisa remarked.

“So it is da’len.”

“You should try _unlocking_ it.”

Solas tried his best to ignore Moro snide snort behind him, breathing deeply and trying a different frequency with his magic.

“I think Laisa might be on to something Solas.”

“Certainly.”

 

“We finally made it.”

Abelas and Ramia stood at the entrance to the temple once again, the barrier from before was still up but Abelas was pulling Ramia by the hand. They would take the entrance Solas had gone through into the temple, hopefully with luck they would have left a trail.

The result of Solas and Moro’s explorations within the temple were scattered from one chamber to another, broken automations scattered the ground around them. The further through the temple they went the stronger the vibrational presence of magic became. Ramia faltered for a moment, the unfamiliar magic making her nervous.

Abelas turned when he realised her footsteps along the stone stopped.

“Are you alright?”

Ramia nodded. Her eyes cast off to the side, making her seem unconvincing in her answer. This prompted Abelas to walk to her side tugging a small chunk of her hair, not hard enough to hurt but enough to get a rise out of her to stare up at him with a questioning glare. His own smile, smug but reassuring as he placed a hand against her shoulder.

“We are under no threat, it will be a simple task to meet up with them. There is nothing to fear.”

“What will happen once we arrive? Be honest with me Abelas.”

His amusement left him, his mouth straightened into a firm line. His composure much more serious and focused.

“Considering the circumstances it will be up to me to escort you and your mother both back to Skyhold, the Dread Wolf discussed his indecision with me about his child’s fate in all this, no doubt due to time spent with the Inquisitor I’m sure.”

Ramia’s eyes widened a fraction, hopeful but reluctant to voice it.

“He is? Really?” Ramia felt incredible relief, if Solas could show compassion in this she felt like Solas may not actually be a completely hopeless cause. Ramia knew it pained her mother to have to fight him, after everything they had been through. Perhaps it would have been easier if they had not borne a child together, it had certainly made things harder.

Granted, Ramia would not trade Laisa for anything, not even the artefact they all sought within this temple.

“This artefact must be very important if he’s willing to leave Laisa behind.”

“You do not even know what is in this temple?”

Ramia shrugged, ignoring Abelas’ disapproval at her ignorance.

“You sent dozens of agents Arlathan forest,” Ramia explained as they continued to traverse the long hallway. “Of course my mother looked into it and had one of them brought to Skyhold. He didn’t say much which just made her more suspicious,” They both began to descend a flight of stairs, grateful for the already lit braziers. “Whatever it is, she’s determined not to let Solas get his hands on it.”

“The Inquisitor’s thought processes are smart…yet dim…”

Ramia came to a complete stop. Turning sharply and stared Abelas down. Which was awkward considering he had a considerable amount of height over her.

“You calling my mother stupid?”

“Smart people do stupid things sometimes, as well you know. The Dread Wolf is an apt example, considering his…choice in time and place to bond with a woman.”

Ramia barked laughter at that.

“Point taken!” She scooted closer till she was an inch away from making contact, neck straining to look at his face. Her face the epitome of arrogance. “But someone seems to have conveniently forgotten what they did last night.”

Abelas rolled his eyes, spinning Ramia around and pushing her forward to continue their trek down the steep staircase.

“A moment of weakness.”

“Uh huh.”

“That will not be repeated.”

“I know, enemies right? I know…” Abelas did not miss the forlorn tone to her speech. Halting her steps himself to pull her back flush against him.

“Listen to me.” Ramia held in a breath at the low timbre in his voice, looking straight ahead of her, irritated at the sentinel’s insistence to drum into her mind facts she was very much aware of. “You remember what I said yes?” She let out a shaky exhale, clutching the armoured hands at her waist. “I have come to respect you enough Ramia, and whatever fondness has come between us will mean nothing…not when this is over…”

“I understand Abelas.”

“Do not think me uncaring.”

“It’s fine Abelas!” Ramia twisted round to face him, her mouth curved upwards in some sad attempt at a smile. “We could though right? If things were different?”

Abelas pondered her question. Ramia was fiery, not the usual sort that grabbed his attention for long. But the calmness that laid beneath the bravado he saw in her dreams made him believe he would have enjoyed her company, if given more time.

And she was attractive, wild hair and soft figured. He had not been so intimate with a woman as he had last night in a long time, as small a gesture as kissing would have seemed. And it felt good, better than he expected it to be. It amused him that such a boisterous woman like her would be so quiet in contrast during such moments. Ramia constantly surprised him, and he would be lying if saying their terminating time together brought not bring him some measure of regret.

“Yes, I think I would, given more time.”

Ramia’s smile became more genuine, bumping her hip against his thigh beside her playfully. Leaving it at that and continuing their journey.

 

* * *

 

The mammoth of a door lit up from bottom to top in particular patterns before slowly scrapping open against its old and rusted hinges. Moro walked on ahead of Solas, knowing that they had found their final destination.

The room was austere in its limited items of interest. But what did sit inside the room caused Moro to stare wide eyed, and brought to life her worst fear of what the mysterious artefact would come to be.

Three large eluvians stood together at the far end of the chamber, dull and inactive. However, they were not what had shocked Moro. In the centre of the room was a pedestal, hovering above it was a golden orb, puzzle piece-like lines etched across its surface.

“Another foci…” Moro whispered, instinctually taking a step back and clutching the stump of her left arm.  She turned to Solas who looked beyond her with a calculated gaze, which ignited slow fury inside her. “That is another orb, isn’t it Solas? June’s orb.”

“Yes.”

Unlike Solas’ foci, the magic emitting from this orb danced across like steam making it appear hot to the touch compared to the barely contained chaos of electricity she had seen all those years ago in the one that bore her the anchor. The thought of touching it made her feel unwell, memories of the never-ending aches and pain bestowed upon her for so many years haunting her mind. Moro knew she couldn’t let Solas leave with this orb, he was powerful enough as it is.

If he got his hands on June’s orb how much more power would he have? If more of these foci existed could there be others? Did he already have them?

“That’s why it’s taken you so long to bring down the veil…” Solas gave a heavy sigh, setting Laisa down but keeping a hold of her before she could wander off. “You’re trying to find all the foci’s aren’t you? There’s more of them.”

Solas held his hands at his sides, mirroring her hard expression when he saw that tell-tale aggression in both her tone and her eyes. Walking past her, approaching the pedestal, ghosted a hand through the transparent light that kept the orb levitating in the air.

“Don’t you dare Solas...”

To Moro’s surprise Solas did retract his hand, slowly. Instead of addressing her however he turned to the three eluvians, elvhen ushered in silent whispers under his breath and his eyes glowing. In a burst of magic all three doors lit up.

Solas approached the eluvian to the far right, his reflection barely visible but there along its surface. Moro exhaled heavily through her nose, bending on one knee and bringing Laisa in front of her.

“Don’t move, alright?” Laisa’s attention was on the door they had entered, a large smile upon her face.

“Ramia’s coming!” Moro grinned, a slight feeling of relief filling her before she became serious again.

“I mean it Laisa, please…don’t move from this spot, do you understand?”

Laisa nodded, bobbing up and down and continuing to stare ahead back from where they came. Moro walked over to Solas’ side, her expression angry once more while his own was melancholic. Moro squeezed herself between Solas and the eluvian.

“You are not taking that foci Solas.”

“You will do everything you can to stop me, I know.” Solas cradled her face with his hands. “You will always fight to protect what matters to you, I always admired that.” His thumbs brushed the apples of her cheeks. “You will try to stop me no matter how much it hurts you.”

Moro ignored the love so plain and laid bare across his face. Her hand squeezed against his wrist, fighting back the urge to press her face against the palm of his hand.

“I hate fighting you, I hate what I’ve had to do to make sure you don’t fuck everything up.”

“Yes, we have both lost many these last few years have we not?” Solas pushed stray loose waves of hair behind her ear. “I admit you are a formidable foe, you have made my job very difficult. Yet I can’t hold back the need to keep you safe, to find a way for you to live despite the inevitable.”

“You can’t save me and restore your world Solas.”

Solas’ fingers lingered by her ear, forefinger rubbing and tracing across the shell of her pointed ear. A smile ghosting his fingers at the slight blush it brought to her cheeks.

“Solas…don’t…” Before she could speak more he silence her with a hungry kiss, encircling her with his arms and pulling her hard against him. The surprise of the kiss made Moro stumble backwards, Solas however was unrelenting, devouring her like a man starved as he followed her steps through the eluvian.

When Solas finally released her they found themselves in the crossroads, a giant crystal-entwined palace standing tall and grand behind them.

“Where are we?” Moro asked breathless, turning to find Solas already heading backwards towards the eluvian they had entered from.

“I am sorry vhenan…”

Moro rushed forward back to the eluvian, but Solas had passed its surface. A barrier of magic refused her escape, leaving her trapped on the other side. Realisation dawn on her and she screamed and cursed, arms banging against the mirror’s surface.

Solas stood inside the temple’s chamber once more, guilt heavy on his shoulders as he laid a hand upon the eluvian.

“I cannot have you meddling any longer, and if I can save you vhenan…then I will find a way.”

“Mamae!”

Solas turned and bent down to Laisa’s level, taking the small child’s hands in his.

“Your mother is on the other side of this mirror da’vhenan. Go to her, I will come back for you both I promise.” He pressed a kiss against her fingers, hushing her questions and urging her through the eluvian to join her mother.

“I hope you can forgive me…I will keep you both safe, no matter what it takes.” He whispered against the eluvian’s surface before taking measured steps back towards the floating foci. Taking it in hand and sealing it before any damage could be done.

“Solas!”

His head turned swiftly towards the sound of his name, Ramia and Abelas stood by the chamber entrance.

“Ramia, Abelas. I am glad you both live…this has been a troubling journey.”

“Where are they?” Ramia asked, the chamber they entered empty and void save for Solas who stood centre stage, his face glum and reeking of shame.

“They are safe.” Was his only vague answer.

“That’s not what I asked! Where are they Solas?!” Ramia screamed, storming up to Solas. “What did you do?!”

“I did what needed to be done,” He says, harsh and controlled. “You and your mother both are involving yourself in dangers beyond your control,” He held the foci close, scrutinising it. “You seek out tools to use against me with no comprehension of how to use them. You will only do more damage to yourselves than anything else.” He levelled Ramia with a hard glare, immediately softening at the fear slowly etching across the young girl’s face.

“Your mother and sister lay beyond.” He gestured towards the eluvian he trapped Moro away in. A hand coming up to cup against her cheek. “I would keep you safe as well.”

Ramia was inwardly shocked at what Solas was offering. She did not know what laid beyond that eluvian but whatever he had done, wherever he had left her mother and sister she knew there was no way out. He would keep them trapped and caged to see his world and plan come to fruition.

Her mother would not want that.

Ramia stood straight with her head held high as she brushed his hand aside, ignoring the fear that bubbled inside her as she stared him down. Hands clasp tightly in front of her.

“I believe I initially was to be escorted back to Skyhold once you got what you came for.”

Solas was dejected by her answer, his arm falling limply at his side as he signalled for Abelas to step forward. Abelas had remained quiet during the entire exchange and continued to do so, taking small steps towards the eluvian to the left side of the room and waiting for Ramia to join him.

“This isn’t over.” Ramia warned before stepping past the door and out of sight. Abelas clutched at the frame of the eluvian.

“This was not part of the plan Solas…”

“I am aware, but nothing since coming to this temple has been,” Solas chuckled mirthlessly to himself. “Nothing I have done has ever gone to plan.”

“She will fight you still, even without her mother’s guidance. She will still try to stop you.”

“I know, Ramia is a stubborn girl, you should know that well enough.”

Abelas stared shocked as Solas destroyed the other eluvian, its shattered pieces falling around him. Where ever he sent the Inquisitor and his daughter, he did not want them found. It did not sit well with the sentinel but he held his tongue and went through to follow Ramia. Leaving Solas with the foci. Their task successful. Although he could not ignore the bitter taste in his mouth at their so called ‘victory’.

 

* * *

 

The journey back to Skyhold was done in silence.

Neither would speak, even when they had reached their destination. Ramia ignored the questioning glances from the many servants who wondered why she was alone. Accompanied only by the tall elvhen. She ascended the staircase that led to her mother’s room. Abelas came and stood behind her, keeping a safe distance. The rage being held at bay oozing from the young woman in waves.

Ramia spun in a fury pulling Abelas down, palm colliding harshly with the side of his face.

His cheek pinked quickly and stung, but he took it.

Took her screams.

Took her thrashing.

The slaps and punches hurdled at his chest, anywhere she could reach.

Took her insults and threats.

He grabbed hold of her wrists when tears started falling down hot against her cheeks.

“Enough Ramia…enough…”

“Dogs! All of you…fucking dogs…” She sobbed, resisting his tight grip at first before falling to her knees. Ramia was scared, and angry. Angry at Abelas, angry at herself for feeling deceived when he had no reason to be forthright in the first place.

She had failed.

She was supposed to protect Laisa and help in retrieving the temple’s artefact and she failed. Empty handed and clueless on what to do, weeping at her enemy’s feet.

“I had not known what he intended Ramia, I am sorry. I do not know where he has sent them.”

Ramia swallowed back the rest of tears, hardening and levelling Abelas with cold and demanding eyes. She rose to her feet, the air around her crackled with magic.

“Find them.”

“Ramia…”

“I don’t care. Whether you knew or not, I don’t care.” Her glares were short lived as tears continued to run down her cheeks. “Please find them Abelas…”

She wiped at her tear-stained face as she moved to her mother’s desk. Notes, maps and plans scattered across it.

“I can’t see you ever again Abelas, not unless you find them. If you respect me as much as you say you do...”

If there was one thing Ramia could appreciate about Abelas it was his reluctance to make excuses. He did not waste words and twist what had happened to seem the righteous one. He straightened up onto his feet, grim faced and silent as he descended the bedroom staircase.

The long heavy silence fell over the room. She knew Abelas looked at her from afar, and that he felt some genuine remorse for what had transpired.

“Dareth shiral da’lath’in, _I do not know if we will meet again…I’m I am sorry_.”

When she was sure he was gone Ramia let out air she had be holding back, pulling out a particularly large map on the large wooden desk, the entirety of Thedas upon it. Several areas were marked heavily, like they were of great importance, unsent letters accompanying the map.

One of them addressed to a Magister Pavus.

The sound of hurried footsteps banged against the floor. Lailani stood at the top of the steps, her face filled with worry.

“Ramia! Thank the creators…” Lailani rushed to Ramia’s side and pulled her close. “Where is your mother? And Laisa?”

“Solas has them…”

“But Ramia…?”

“Who is Magister Pavus?”

“Pavus? You don’t remember? Dorian Pavus, he fought alongside your mother against Corypheus.”

The name was becoming more familiar as she pieced a face together. If he was a magister, did her mother plan to ally with Tevinter?

“There’s a lot I need to do…I’ll need help. Either way, Solas probably thinks with my mother out of the way that victory is his.”

Ramia pulled out the letter, inspecting it and pulling ink, paper and a quill to draft a latter of her own.

“His first mistake was letting me leave the temple alive, tell my mother’s advisors what has happened. And that a replacement has been made.”

Lailani was at a loss for words, but obeyed rushing back down to the main hall. There was much that needed to be done. Letters to send, contacts to reach and training to be done. Either way, Ramia was not going to let Solas relish this victory.

The fight was far from over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finally it comes to an end.
> 
> But not completely! For I have also uploaded the first chapter of the sequal to this story called "Odyssey" which can be read here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6637390/chapters/15185794
> 
> I hope everyone who read this enjoyed it, thank you to every comment, subscription and kudos that helped me when I sometimes felt low when writing this. If you enjoyed this I hope you'll also enjoy the next and what I have in store.
> 
> <3<3<3 xxxxxxxxxx


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